


Knight in Shining Armor

by BlondieBadCat



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Bastard!Arthur, Crossdressing, Historical Inaccuracy, Knights - Freeform, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-02
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-15 11:11:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 53,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlondieBadCat/pseuds/BlondieBadCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captured by the English, Ivan tries to find a way to survive in captivity; luckily he has a blonde Canadian prince to help him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Captured

**Author's Note:**

> I have little knowledge of Russian-English history; so the battle is just something I googled up along the times when Canada would have been pretty young, so I`m not sure how accurate it is.

Armour clinked together as two soldiers forced a third unto the ground; kneeling before a fourth man. Blood red uniform accented with gold; white sash crossing over his chest; right shoulder down to left hip. Blonde hair; thick brows. Green eyes, glaring daggers at the ash blonde man kneeling before him.

"Do you surrender?" Teeth gritted together; lavender eyes narrowed as they looked up at the Englishman.

"пошел на хуй, вы английски свинья!" (fuck you, you English pig!) Came a gruff response in a harsh Russian dialogue. The Russian spat at the Englishman’s shoes, earning a swift boot to the stomach, causing him to slump forward in pain. He let out a long hiss as a heavy boot pressed against his skull, driving his face into the cold stones that made up the floor.

"What was that Russki?" the Englishman pressed his foot down harder again the ask blondes skull; his nose pressing painfully into the dirty stone. "Hmm? What was that?" He let out a soft hiss of pain, feeling blood trickle from his nose.

"Father, stop it. You're hurting him," The boot removed itself from his head; allowing the Russian to return to a kneeling position once more. A petite blonde boy hung off the Englishman’s arm, his pale cheeks flushed. "Look, you broke his nose," the young blonde pouted, taking a handkerchief out of his pocket as he moved towards the Russian. Delicate fingers touched his cheek as the young man wiped the blood from his nose, smiling softly at him. "Better?" the Russian opened his mouth to response, but caused, watching as the British captain batted away the younger mans hand.

"Don't touch that dirty Russki Matthew," He growled out before turned to the two soldiers guarding the Russian. "Take him downstairs and put him in one of the cells. And don't give him anything either," the two lesser soldiers grabbed the Russian under the arms; standing him upright before walking him towards a set of stairs.

“Father! You can't do that!" Matthew cried. "He'll die if you don't give him anything!" Arthur turned to him; eyes narrowed in anger. "F-father.." Arthur turned to the younger man, putting his hands on both shoulders.

"Matthew. We have bigger problems to worry about then some stupid Russki. We have to keep them out of Sevastopol, and supplies are getting harder and harder to get to the soldier now and-- Why the hell and I telling you? You have no interest in this. Fine. If it matters so much to you I will leave him in your care to keep alive," A smile lit Matthew's face and Arthur looked away, a frown on his face. "For now. But do not forget Matthew. That Russki is a prisoner of war and he will be treated as such,"

"Yes Father. I understand," Matthew gave him a small smile gracing his lips. "Thank you for being considerate," Matthew game him a small bow as he left; going towards the stairs where the two soldiers had taken the Russian.

Heels clicking on the stone floors, Matthew looked around for the soldiers watching over the Russian; he shivered as he looked around; pulling his tailcoat closer around his thin frame. "Hello?" he called out timidly; but received no response; only a few groans from some of the other prisoners. "Hello?" He went closer to one of the cells, looking in to see who was in it. A hand snaked though the bars, grabbing him by the wrist. He let out a cry; taking a step back. A man looked back at him; greasy brown hair, dirt caked his skin; smelling something horrid. "Let go!" he whimpered out, and the prisoner complied with his request.  
"Prince, I thought you of him. My apologies," The man bowed and disappeared into the darkness of the cell.

"Wait.. did you see the guards bring in a man not long ago?" he asked, clutching to the bars, squinting into the darkness.

"With a man shouting in tongues, to the last cell," came a quick response from the dark, voice low. Matthew nodded, a small smile on his lips.

"Thank you. I will bring you a treat tomorrow, for your help,"

"M'lord, you are gods gift to earth," Matthew let his fingers drift from the bars of the cell door as he moved onward to the end of the prison; towards the only cell with a solid metal door. One guard stood beside the entrance; the other no wheres in side. A muffled sound echoed around them and Matthew frowned.

"Where is John?" Matthew asked, looking at the guard.

"He's with the prisoner," came the guards quick response.

"Open the door. Father has granted me care over this prisoner," Matthew said in a quiet voice. The guard looked at him; eyes boring into Matthew's. A loud bang echoed from the room. "Open the Door George," The lock on the door clanged loudly as it slid open and the thick metal door groaned loudly as George pushed it open.

"Stupid bloody Red!" a leg swung towards the Russian; shackled to the wall with thick chains of iron clasped around his wrists, unable to ward off the attack. The Russian spat out blood as it dripped from his pale red lips. "Weak little fucker aren’t you?"

"John! Stop!" Matthew yelled as the elder man raised his fist. "What do you think you are doing?" Matthew growled out; a frown covering his face. "Get out! I don't even want to hear your excuses. George, get me a wash basin and some cloths,"

"Y-yes m'lord," George disappeared from sight and John; not too far behind. Matthew turned his attention back to the Russian in front of him; his expression softening.

"I'm going to take this armour off you okay?"

"да"

"Yes?"

"да" Matthew smiled softly, and stepped closer to the Russian. He unlocked the lock connecting the two iron cuffs together, then began removing the steel slabs that made up the Russian armor. After the armor was removed the Russian was simply dressed in brown pants and a beige shirt. Matthew went over to the basin and dipped a cloth into the warm water before ringing it out and walking back over to the ash haired man. Dark eyes glared up at the blonde as he took the cloth in one hand and his chin in the other and gently began to wash away the blood and grime.

"Sorry about John. He's a jackass. Takes a little too much love in his job. But you'll be in my care until Father knows what he's going to do with you. I'm Matthew, by the way," he chatted to the non-responsive Russian. "Can you tell me your name?" he paused for a moment; brushing some hair out of his eyes. "Who?"

"Ivan," rolled the thick Russian accent and Matthew shivered. Ivan stood abruptly, and Matthew fell back against the stoney floor, wincing as he scraped his arm.

"Ow," he whined, sitting up, rubbing his arm. "You could be nicer you know," Matthew frowned. "What am I thinking. You don't understand me anyways,"

"Vhy, vould I speak vith you, a English harlot?" came a accented response. "Go and please that pig you call "Father," Matthew gaped at him as he pushed himself into a standing position.

"You speak English? How come --"

"Get out of my sight you English sow," Ivan gritted out, eyes narrowed, arms crossed over his chest. "I would prefer to die in solitude," A resounded slap echoed though the cell; blood rose to Ivan's cheek in which had been slapped.

"I'm not English, and I'm not a sow or a harlot! I'm trying to make this as comfortable as I can for you; unless you rather starve to death like my father wants, you prick!" the Russian's eyes narrowed into slits as he stepped forward towards Matthew, who stepped back, eyes wide as Ivan stared him down with a deadly glare. A few steps and Matthew's back was pressed against the wall, Ivan towering over him. Ivan's thick fingers brushed against his neck. Matthew looked up at him; violet eyes wide in fear.

“Не стоит даже время. “ (Not even worth my time) Ivan murmured, squeezing down tightly on Matthew's windpipe before releasing him; turned and sat against the stone wall. Matthew wheezed; trying to regain is breath; pupils dilated, eyes wide with fright.

"I-I..." he stuttered, scrambling to his feet, still gasping for breath. Thin body trembling, shaking, trying to calm his heart down and prevent himself from having a panic attach.

"Poor Matvey, so scared of big Russia," Ivan sneered at him, as he began to rise from the floor. "I vonder vhat you will do if I get aggressive with you. Call daddy perhaps?" Ivan's eyes narrowed. " может быть, вам стоит моего времени в конце концов," ( maybe you are worth my time after all).

"W-w-what?" Matthew whimpered softly, biting his lip as he tried to hide his shaking jaw. He took a few steps towards the door; tripping over the wash basin, water splashing over its sides as it tipped before settling back down.

"Are you attentive to all your father's prisoners like this?" Ivan growled out. Matthew flushed.

"I-I'll b-be back l-later with d-dinner," he squeaked out before quickly knocking on the door. It creaked open and the blonde slipped out before it shut

Ivan left out an annoyed sigh as he began to pace in his confined space, growling in Russian under his breath.Captured he though sourly, tugging at his collar. But little Matvey... Very interesting.

|*|*|  
Matthew made his ways though the long corridors in search of his rooms. He still felt sick to his stomach over his visit with the Russian prisoner, Ivan. He wasn't sure what came over him; caused him to go against his 'father' and want to take care of some prisoner. He never had done this before. The colour rose to his cheeks as he entered his rooms, the ash blonde man's handsome face fresh in his mind. He closed the door and leaned against the dark wood for a moment before moving; over to his bed; face first into his pillows with a dramatic sigh. After a moment he turned over onto his back, looking up at his canopy. His fingers brushed against his neck, the feeling of Ivan's tight grip lingering. A soft whimper left his lips as he felt a shiver run down his body. It had been a long time since he felt this way about anyone. His obsession with his Papa's friend Gilbert had long since passed. It had been so short lived. The albino had left in a whisper of white robes and then his Papa had sent him to live with his father. Matthew wiggled around, pushing the blankets out from under himself and crawling into their warmth. His hands, together by his head, but his mind elsewhere.

|*|*|

"Master Matthew, are you awake? It is time for your evening meal," the soft voice of a servant came though the bedroom door, and Matthew groaned.

"Yes Anne, I'm awake. Thank you for waking me," he called out to her from the bed. He could hear the soft clicks of her heels against the floor as she walked away. Matthew pushed back his blankets and sat up. He shook his head as he got out of bed and walked towards the en-suite bathroom to brush his head and freshen up before dinner.

After releaving himself and combing though his snarly hair, Matthew glanced at himself in the tall mirror on the way out of the bathroom. Dark purple bruises imprinted on his neck like ink on paper from where Ivan had pressed down on him. He bit his lip frowning, unsure of what he could wear to cover up the marks. Surely his father would forbid his visits with the Russian because of this, if he found out. He barely knew the man and he already did not want to cut their meetings short. He walked back into his room and made his way over to his wardrobe, opening the large drawers. He looked outside to the window on his left. He shivered at the flakes of snow that fluttered in the air and grabbed a thin scarf, given to him by his Papa, Francis; showing off his french heritage with blue, white and red stripes.

"What in bloody hell is that around your neck?" Arthur growled at him as he entered the dining room. Arthur's eyes burned into him as he made his way to the table and sat down.

"I-It's a scarf father," he replied in a small voice.

"Rubbing in that frog, are you?" Arthur shook his head and waved Matthew off with his hand. "Whatever it may be. Sit down and eat up," he commanded. Matthew nodded and sat down, the entire dinner awkward and silent. After he had finished his soup, Matthew stood, and began clearing away his dishes, pausing only as Arthur's glare burned into him. "That is the servant’s job Matthew," Matthew set the bowl back down on the table with a sigh.

"I am going to bring something down to the Russian prisoner," he said softly, turning towards the kitchen and avoiding the statement his father had made. "I will be back shortly," Matthew walked to the kitchen and looked around. He grabbed some bread and cheese from the cupboard, and a knife from the butchers box before cutting and slicing them into cubes and bread slices. He grabbed a few pieces of meat that had been left over from supper and put everything on a plate, along with some crackers. He glanced over at the wine rack to his left, selecting a bottle of red wine that Francis had sent him a few months back. He paused, looking back at the rack. If Arthur knew he was spoiling a prisoner then he would get punished. Matthew flushed; shaking his head. He gathered up the items for the meal and headed out to the basement where the prisoners were held.

Matthew shivered as he descended down onto the basement. He paused at the cell of the man who had helped him earlier when he had first came down and gave him a piece of the leftover meat.

“Many thanks, M'lord, many thanks,” the prisoner thanked Matthew before retreating into the darkness of his cell; devouring the small piece of meat.

“George, having a good shift?” Matthew asked the guard as he got closer to Ivan's cell. “Can you open the door for me?”

“Ah; yes, good m'lord, and yes, I certainly can,” He replied with a quick bow, and moved to open the door. “Just knock when you are finished and I will open the door,”

“Thank you,” Matthew replied with a shy smile, nodding his head as George moved out of his way so he could enter the cell. “Ivan,” Matthew called out as the door shut behind him. The cell was rather dark and he almost wished for a candle to brighten it up some. “I have brought you something to eat. I made most of it myself, so you don't have to worry about it tasting bad,” When he got no response back from the Russian; he let out a soft sigh and placed the tray and the wine bottle down by the door. “Hmm. Well I'll just leave it by the door,” he said, mostly to himself as he turned to knock on the door to have George open it.

An arm wrapped itself around his waist, another moved and a hand covered his mouth. “How sweet, you came back,” came a hiss in his ear. Matthew stiffened; his heart pounding in his chest. Ivan's hot breath brushing against the back of his neck; his body pressed against his. “Did I scare you немного подсолнечного? (little sunflower?)” a throaty laugh left Ivan as he released Matthew from his hold. Matthew's whimper did not go unnoticed. "Such a small, fragile country. No wonder you live with England. I can only imagine how you must feel to compete with Amerika," he hissed out. "How does your 'father' feel about this tryst?" He laughs at Matthew's red faced, sputtering reaction.

"W-what are you talking about?" he sputters out, stepping back from Ivan. "This is not a...a t-tryst!" he turns to walk to the door but Ivan reaches out, grabbing his wrist. Matthew let out a yelp; Ivan's grip crushing his bones together. He pulled Matthew towards him, chains rattling at the movement; Matthew's thin frame against Ivan's larger one.

"Vhy would you help me? Go against your father's command and help a enemy?" he paused for a moment, giving room for the younger man to reply. After a moment with nothing but a shaky breath, he continued.

"Obviously there is something about me that has you-" he pressed a hand to Matthew's chest, pressing him against himself. "Feel something," Matthew went rigid against him, before clawing at his hand, pushing away from him.

"N-nothing!" Matthew gasped out as Ivan dug his fingers painfully into Matthew's stomach. "It's--"

"I think it's affection, perhaps, since your father never pays attention to you and Francis--" there was a sharp intake of breath at Francis's name. "Abandoned you," Ivan' s right hand snaked up from it's place around Matthew and came to rest under his chin, pressing into his throat, turning his head towards Ivan at an awkward angle. "You want someone to pay attention to you," A whimper escaped Matthew as he tried to twist out of Ivan's hold, but Ivan's grip only tightened. Ivan yanked at the scarf around his throat, pulling it loose. His finger imprints still visible bruises from earlier.

"I-I--"

"You don't care, do you?" Ivan asked, releasing him with a hard shove to the ground. " As long as someone acknowledges you," Matthew looks up it at, his eyes glassed over, near tears.

"T-that’s not--"

"Take care of me little Matvey. Let me use you while I am trapped and I will never abandon you," Ivan said in the softest voice he could muster. He sank to his knees, chains clanking together as he strained against them, the muscles in his arms bulging as he strained against them, reaching for Matthew.

"I-- Yes. I-I'll take care of you," Soft fingers, tentatively reach towards Ivan, brushing against his cheekbones. A shy smile. Matthew's cheeks lightened up with a blush and he dropped his hand from Ivan's face.

"Come closer немного подсолнечного (little sunflower)" Ivan said, sitting back with his back against the cell wall. "Feed me," he says, gesturing to the tray of food Matthew had brought in with him. Matthew scampered over and got the tray, along with the wine and brought it close to Ivan.

Matthew pressed a piece of cheese to his lips and Ivan flicked his tongue out, pulling the tangy cube into his mouth, his stomach growling on impact. Matthew continued to feel him pieces of cheese and crackers, of meat and sips of wine, until everything was gone. Ivan licked at his lips, reddened with the wine. Matthew moved the tray away and just sat by Ivan, almost contented. He glanced down at the boy beside him, who's mauve eyes seemed to be avoiding his own, pressed the pads of his fingers to Matthew's cheek, turning his head so he could look into those frightened eyes. Matthew bit down on his bottom lip, casting his eyes downward, away from Ivan. He pressed his lips, rough and cracked, to Matthew's soft, rosy cheek.

"Ah Matvey, you are cute. Thank you for easing my hunger," Matthew let out a squeak and pushed him away, moving to stand and grabbed the tray and wine bottle.

"I-I need to g-go," Matthew shuddered out, quickly going to the door and knocking. George opened the door and with a quick glance towards Ivan, Matthew left.

Matthew collapsed onto his bed, face pressing into his plush pillows as he tried to sort his mind out. Why? Why had he agreed to let Ivan use him? Yes. It was true that Arthur never paid attention to him. It was true that Alfred was his favorite and got all the attention. And it was true that he felt that Francis had abandoned him. How could he feel anything else but. Being shipped off to England's house made him feel small. Even though he was bigger then England and Francis. Even Alfred for that matter. He turned over on his back and let out a long sigh as he reached over and picked up his polar bear Kumajiro he had been given from Francis. How did Ivan know Francis anyways? Who knew. He clutched at the bear tightly, rolling back unto his stomach. He still could nor believe that Ivan had kissed him. Even though it was just a kiss of thanks, on his cheek. He still felt shy and embarrassed by it. That had been the most affection he'd had in a long time. Matthew smiled softly to himself. Even if it was false affection to make Ivan's time as a prisoner more bearable. Matthew cast a glance towards the window. The darkness of the evening creeping into his room.


	2. Post

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hetalia = Not mine by the way.

“Boy, there is post for you,” Matthew looked at his father for a moment, watching as the older blonde turned the page of the newspaper he was reading. “From the frog,”

“From Papa?” he repeated, a smile spreading over his soft features. As excited as he was, he calmly walked over to the coffee table and picked up the envelope. He tore off the seal and quickly pulled out the letter.

“Of course it's from Papa,” Arthur sneered, shaking out his paper to straighten the pages before he let go of it with one hand to reach to the end table beside him and grasped his handle of his tea cup between his fingers. “What is he going on about this time?” he asked, tone a bit more soft, curious.

“He, ummm...” Matthew pauses for a moment as he skims over the letter. “He's coming to visit once the channel is travel worthy. Also that Alfred is doing okay, but he's thinking it may take a while yet to recover from the war,” He adds in a light tone, knowing it will upset Arthur, but he will be happy to know the news, even if it doesn't appear to be so.

“Bloody bastard,” he hears from Arthur, grumbled under his breath. “Always rubbing it in,” He shakes his head before taking a sip of tea. Matthew let the letter back down on the coffee table before he turned to make leave. “And that idiot you call a brother...” he trailed off.

“I'm going to go and--”

“A suitor is coming today,” Arthur cut him off, his tone indifferent. “A nice Turkish bloke. Adnan? I think was his last name. He'll be joining us for supper,” Matthew froze, swallowing, his adams apple bobbing. Adnan?. Matthew shook his head briefly. No idea who he was. He bit his lip, trying to keep the noise from escaping his throat at his displeasure. All he knew was that he did not want to be wed to someone he didn't even know.

“Yes Father,” he murmured as he left he left the parlour, a frown on his face as he headed in the direction of the kitchen so he could get some breakfast for the prisoner under his watch. 

~*~*~*~

After filling a tray full of fresh meats, fruit and cheese; he grabbed a canteen of water before heading down to the prison area. George opened the door to Ivan's cell once he came in view. He smiled shyly at the guard to blushed back in response. 

“There you go little Prince,” he murmured as Matthew slipped into the Russians cell. He set the items in his hands down on the small table that was now sitting by the door before he turned in the semi-darkness of the room. The door pinging closed startling him, making him jump. He pressed further into the small room, jumping again at the sound of chains rattling and then the feel of thick arms wrapping around his midsection. 

“I-Ivan!” Matthew squealed, an undignified noise escaping from his throat as Ivan licked a stripe up the slender column that was Matthew's neck.   
“Vat?” The Russian murmured after a moment, directly into his ear. “Did I scare you?” His tone was soft, caring almost, his large hands sliding into place at Matthew's hips. 

“L-lets g-get you fed,” Matthew said in a soft tone, pushing Ivan's hands off him, and ignoring his question. He moved just out of Ivan's reach as he went to retrieve the tray he had brought with him. Ivan growled in annoyance. It had been three weeks since he was first imprisoned in the god forsaken Englishman’s castle prison. Twenty-one days of seeing the blonde currently in front of him, and hardly being able to touch. Matthew turned to him and bit his lip after glancing at Ivan, looking at him demurely. Ivan wanted nothing more then to knock the silly tray to the ground and grab hold of the other boy; but his mind disregarded his bodies want; ignored self pleasure for healthy foods that would keep him alive. He licked his lips before opening his mouth to Matthew's offering of cheese and meats and bread. 

“Vhy are you still doing this?” Ivan asked him as he finished eating the last piece of bread and took the canteen of water in his chained wrists.

“I..I..” Matthew stuttered. “Why can't you be a Prince too?” he murmured in a low voice as he stood up; so low that Ivan could not fully make out what he had said. He shook his head before starting again on his original thought. “I..I may not be able to soon..Father wants me to marry soon. I have a visit from a suitor later today... A nice Turkish man,” Matthew didn't have time to even blink before Ivan's fingers where curled around his slender throat, squeezing.

“You are mine, you understand?” He hissed, grip tightening. Matthew brought his hands up, clawing at Ivan's, his eyes wide and frightened. He let out a strangled gasp; trying to get air into his lungs. “Mine. No Turkish or French or British pig is going to have you, ты моя. Я убью тебя, прежде чем я никому еще у вас.”(You are mine. I will kill you before I let anyone else have you,” Ivan continued, but let go, and Matthew crumbled onto the floor. He sucked in a shuddering gasp, filling his lungs one again, he bit down on his lip after a moment, trying to stop the flood of tears threatening to spill. 

“I—I--” 

“They won't love you, they'll just use you and then forget you even exist,” Ivan hissed, trying to move closer, but the chains pulled at his arms, preventing him from gathering the crying blonde into his arms. “Do you want to be forgotten? Do you vant to be used Matvey?” he continued.

“N-no...” the blonde whimpered, closing his eyes tightly, body shivering.

“Then find a way to get me out of here,” Ivan growled lowly, pulling at his chains which dug into the already tender flesh of his wrists. Matthew inhaled a shaky breath, moving closer, walking on his knees to do so, taking Ivan's hand in his own, pressing kisses to the purplish bruised flesh of Ivan's wrist. He then pressed his cheek into the cupped palm of Ivan's hand; cold against the heated flush on his cheeks. 

“P-Papa's coming to visit me in a few weeks, it..it might be enough distraction to get the keys from Father...at least for these cuffs,” Matthew murmured softly, turning his attention to Ivan's face. He pressed soft lips to Ivan's cheek before pulling away. Ivan growled and grabbed at him, fingers digging into a slender wrist, pulling at Matthew so he landed awkwardly, knees digging into Ivan's thighs as was pulled again. Chapped lips brushed against his own soft ones, wet tongue snaking out to rub against Matthew's bottom lip. The blonde tried to jerk back but was held steady by the Russian's hand which had snaked behind his head, holding at the base of his neck. Ivan brought his hand up to Matthew's chin, sliding his fingers upward slightly, middle finger hooking on the corner of his mouth, pushing it open enough so he could slip his tongue inside of the others wet mouth. 

“Nhhh!” Matthew made a muffled noise, his fist rising and hitting against Ivan's chest; but he did not make a real effort to escape. Ivan's tongue slipped Matthew's rubbing against the thick muscle, against the top of his mouth, running over his teeth. Matthew made another whimpering noise at the back of his throat; hands moving around to Ivan's thick neck, circling around. After a moment, Matthew pulled away, gasping for breath, stolen from him. Cheeks redden even further, he stumbled back from Ivan, scurrying to step away from him.

“Matvey-”

“I..I need to go n-now,” he cut off quietly, quickly picking up his disregarded tray before knocking on the door for George to let him out. Ivan pushed himself up from the floor where he had been sitting; now pacing his small cell. A growl escaped his throat as he paused, slamming his fist against the stone wall. 

“Бог дан ит,” (God damn it).

~*~*~*~*~

A month had passed since he last received correspondence from Francis. He had been keeping his distance from Ivan; since the incident with wherein he had kissed him. Sadiq, his Turkish suitor, whom had, while a very pleasant man, had been more then double his age, and knew both of his parents. However, now that he thought about it, Ivan was a lot older then him as well, so it was a bit hypercritical of him to think of Sadiq like that. It had been an awkward dinner with both him and Arthur to say the least. But he had been a kind man, gentle with him in their interactions and a bit soft spoken. Or at least with him it seemed to be that way with him. Once he had left the dining, he had listened for a moment after he had shut the door, ear pressed to the cool hardwood and his voice had been much louder then when he had been in the room. He closed the book in his hands shut with a snap, his eyes moving to the window, rain hitting against the glass pane lightly as he set the book down on the stand beside his arm chair. His eyes widened as they caught sight of a carriage coming up the long drive way, off in the distance. He stood up quickly, almost knocking the stand next to him down to the floor. He walked out of his sitting room and down stairs. 

“Papa!” Matthew cried, throwing the door open before running outside to meet his French parent as his carriage pulled up to the castle manor. “Papa, it's so nice to see you!” He cried again, happily throwing his arms around his father. 

“Ah, Mon Cher, did you miss me?” the Frenchman asked, kissing Matthew on both cheeks in greeting.

“Oui, of course I did!” Matthew whined. “Father is so harsh!” Francis chuckled as he wrapped an arm around Matthew's shoulders, walking him towards the entrance as his driver carried in his luggage.

“Ah, Arthur is Arthur after all, silly Englishman. Let's forget about him. Tell me all about your love affair with this boy you've been writing me about,” he said in a hushed tone as they made their way though the long halls towards the guest rooms.

“Papa! It's... It's not a love a-affair!” Matthew let out an undignified noise, pushing the door open to Francis' room. The driver, who had been walking behind them with his bags slipped by them as the stood near the door and set the luggage down. He stood there for a moment before turning to him and waving him off. The man left with a curt nod in Francis' direction and slipped back out the door. Francis moved to the bed, sitting down on the side of it, the mattress sinking under his weight. He patted the space next time him motioning for Matthew to follow him. Matthew took up a seat next time him, clasping his hands together, resting them in his lap. 

“Start from the beginning, mon cher,” Francis said in a soft tone. Matthew looked over at him, an almost hopeless look covering his features.

“Well...” Matthew trailed off, looking back down at his hands. “Well, You and Father have been fighting with the Ottoman's against the Russian since last October, yes? Well, just over a month ago Father had captured a few of the Russian soldiers; one of them, a higher ranked soldier he's been keeping in the cells down in the basement. He's... I mean... Father was kicking and hitting him or whatever sort of torture he does and I couldn't bare to watch it and... and... Father allowed me to take care of him while he's down there, but he... he kissed me! And when Sadiq, that Turkish suitor Father had me see came, he..that is, the Russian, got mad and left bruises where he grabbed at me Papa! I don't know what to do!” he ended, his voice wavering slightly. Francis looked at him for a moment, tapping his index finger against his chin in thought.

“Ah, Cher, you are a naive little one...” He murmured. “It sounds like he may be a little bit jealous Matthieu. How old is dis Russian gentlemen?” Francis asked. Matthew turned his head to face is Papa. 

“Ummm... I... I don't really know Papa... I can't think he'd be older then you or Father though,” If Francis had had a drink in his mouth he would have spit it out. 

“M-my age?! Isn’t that a little old for you Matthieu? Ah, what am I saying; L’Amour can't be stopped can it?” He asked, standing up once more. He motioned for Matthew to follow him. He let out a small laugh as they walked out of his rooms and down the long hall towards the parlour room where Arthur was currently lounging with a copy of Oliver Twist in his hand; pressed against his face as he dozed off.

“D'Angleterre!” Francis called as he walked into the parlour.

“W-what?!” Arthur yelled, startling awake as the novel in his hand fell to the floor. “Francis!” He muttered under his breath, cheeks quickly turning pink with embarrassment. “I don't even know why you bothered to come here,” he continued to grumble as he got up from the chair and bent over to retrieve his book form the floor; Francis' eyes following him. 

“I did not come to see you, I came here to see my darling son Arthur,” Francis said with a shrug of his shoulders, eyes narrowing at the green eyed blonde. Arthur opened his mouth, but then closed it, deciding not to spit out a come back. “And he was just telling me about the Russian you're keeping in ze basement,” He said loftily. 

“That Russian is a prisoner of war!” Arthur hissed back. “He was not much of an Admiral if he got captured in the first battle he fought in! He's my prisoner and he stay here until I drag every last piece of information I need out of him!”

“Father you can't! It's cruel! He's just a man!” Matthew yelled at Arthur, stomping his foot down. He bit at his lip, trying to keep his eyes free of tears.

“You are not to see that Russki any more Matthew,” Arthur sneered as he turned towards the window; rain pitter-patted against the window; the cold autumn wind blowing into the remaining leaves of the trees. 

“Father!” Matthew protested, shoulders held stiff. “You'll starve him to death, if you don't beat him to death first! You think you can be careful and hurt him in places that I can't see, but I'm not as stupid as you think I am!” he shouted at Arthur before he turned and stormed out of the room. Francis cast a quick glance towards him as he passed him. He then turned his attention to Arthur, hands on his hips. 

“You are a prick sometimes Arthur. I don't know why he even stays here with you. I'm taking him back with me to France,”

“You will do no such thing!” Arthur said with a snort. “You gave him up. You're the one who left him after all. Left us,” He ended quietly, looking down. Francis looked away, a frown on his face. It was the only thing he could do. Arthur said nothing more as he moved from the window and said back down in his arm chair; picking his book back up. “Are you just going to stand there?” Arthur asked after a few minutes, and Francis looked towards him. 

“I--” Francis started, pausing. “Yes,” He said sullenly, and after a moment moved to sit in the arm chair across from from Arthur. He steepled his fingers for a moment before pushing them to either side; letting the joints pop at the pressure. “Matthieu will hate you if you hurt him Arthur,” He said in a sharp tone, looking at Arthur for another moment before turning his attention to the rain gently hitting against the window pane.

~*~*~*~*~

Matthew slammed the door shut as soon as he had slipped inside. He pressed his closed fists into his eyes, glasses pressing into his forehead, tears slipping down his cheeks. His breath caught in his throat as he tried to keep back his quiet sobs, no matter how quiet he tried to be, they still echoed though the small stone room. A finger brushed against the backside of his hand, and he lowered his hands, wiping his eyes as he did so. 

“Vat wrong немного подсолнечного? (Little sunflower). Vat has made you cry so much?” 

“I-Ivan!” Matthew cried, fingers gripping tightly at Ivan's threadbare shirt. He pulled himself closer to the soldier before moving his arms, slipping them around Ivan's neck. “Father is being so cruel. He's not going to let me see you any more!” He cried into Ivan's neck. Ivan's thick arms curled around Matthew's waist. 

“Ah, that English pig,” Ivan growled lowly against Matthew's ear. “We need that key Matvey,” he murmured, his tongue flicking out against the shell of Matthew's ear. The younger man shivered in Ivan's hold.

“Father will never let that key out of his sight now!” Matthew whimpered pitifully, resting his forehead against Ivan's collarbone as he settled between the elder man's legs. Ivan shifted, moving his legs slightly to accommodate him, his arms falling to his sides, the chains rattling with each movement of his arms.

“Little Matvey. You need to get that key,” Ivan repeated in a cold tone, and Matthew pulled back from him only to have Ivan run his index finger along the line of Matthew's jaw, tilting his chin up. “As soon as possible,” he added softly, joining their lips with a soft press. Matthew breathed out, his face burning up, Ivan's breath hot against his cheeks. Matthew backed away slightly before pushing himself up, wiping his eyes of any stray tears.

“I—I'll g-get it s-soon,” he stuttered, worrying at his bottom lip. “I-I promise I w-will get it!” he pulled at his tunic before brushing the dirt off his backside. Ivan pushed his body backwards until his back met the wall. “I...I will return soon,” He murmured softly, knocking on the door behind him. He turned back to Ivan for a moment to flash him a shy smile, cheeks flushed. The door pushed open a crack and Matthew turned to it before slipping out. 

~*~*~*~*~

“Papa,” 

Francis looked up at the sound; the cast iron pan in his hand hitting the metal of the stove with a sharp clang. 

“Ah, Matthieu, good morning. How are you doing on this sunny day?” Francis replied, nodding towards the window to his right as he put some batter into the hot pan. “Take a seat, it won't be long before breakfast. I figured I'd make breakfast edible for once rather then that horrid Englishman's slop,”

“Don't remind me,” Matthew said with a slight giggle as he pulled out a chair before sitting down at the table. “Ummmm...Papa, I...I..” he paused for a moment, thinking of his words. “Can you help me with something while your here?”

“Ah, what is it my dear?” Francis said, voice slightly muffled by the fact that he was turned away from Matthew. 

“I do not even know if you would want to help me with this.. but... I know father would never do it...” he trailed off. Francis plated the crepe he was making, and poured more batter into the pan. 

“Spit it out Matthieu. I am starting to get the feeling we'll both be punished for what you are about to ask of me,”

“I need the keys to Ivan's chains from Father,” Matthew rushed out. “He keeps them on a shelf in his room,” Francis turned towards him now, brow raised. “But I can't go in there, since he keeps his rooms locked when he's not in there,” Francis turned to him; spatula in hand. 

“It sounds like you want me to seduce him Matthew, to get into his room so I can get the key while he's sleeping,” Matthew couldn’t help turn bright red at this, an undignified Papa! Squeaking out of his throat. “Well, it sounded like that is what you wanted me to do Mon Cher. But I'm not sure if I can, Arthur is a bit of a prude, and we have not been together since we.... since Alfred and yourself came into our lives. He isn't like he used to be and I don't think ...” He faltered; turning back again to the stove. He picked up a hand towel and began to wipe down the counter. “I can't say he would react pleasantly to any advances Matthieu,”

“I...I know Papa, but I... I really, I don't know why I..”

“Do not worry about it,” He said to Matthew as he turned back to the stove, adding the last crepe to the pile before picking up the plate and moving to the table with it. “I will take care of it. -Just give me a little time,”


	3. Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Francis's tried to sweet talk and Jack pops in for a visit.

Chapter 3

As Francis fluttered around the kitchen, he could hear the sullen footsteps of Arthur thudding around upstairs in his parlour. He picked up a ladle from a pot and dripped the ladles contents over the veal and vegetables, and then finished it off with a sprig of dill. He set the plate down in Arthur's spot before bringing his own plate to the table. He slipped a small box of matches out of the pocket of his dress coat, pulling out a match before striking it against the side, a spark creating a flame at the end of the small piece of wood. He cupped his hands around the flame as he moved slightly to light the two candles on the table. He pocketed the matchbox as he moved to throw the used match into garbage box before turning back to the table to look at his placings. 

“Parfait,” He murmured, pressing two of his fingers to his lips and blowing a kiss. “Arthur, better like this,” he murmured as he pushed open the door leading into the hallway, turning to his left and heading up the stairs to Arthur's parlour. He knocked on the door, waiting for Arthur's bark. 

“Yes?” Came a surly reply from the other side of the thick wooden doors. Francis took that as incentive to turn the knob and pushed the door open, sticking his blonde head just within view of Arthur. “What is it Frog?” He asked.

“I thought you might like to join me for dinner,” He asked softly as he pushed the door open so he could slip though the opening. 

“And why would I want to do that?” he spat out looking over his shoulder at Francis before turning back to his book. 

“Because it is your favourite,” Francis replied. “Blanquette du Veau,” Arthur's head picked up at this, and he looked back over his shoulder again. He placed his book down on the end table before he pushed his hands down onto the arms of the chair, pushing himself into a standing position. 

“I..Thank you,” He said in a hushed voice. “It's been a while since I had that,” he caused his eyes down to the floor for a moment before he moved towards Francis and the door. Francis stepped back and out of the way so Arthur could pass by him into the hallway. 

“Mattieu has gone for the night. Not out as in town but he's gone to feed his Russian before he retires for the night. He's already had supper while you were sleeping,”

“I--” Arthur sputters for a moment before pulling a frown onto his face. “I was not sleeping,” he grumbled out sourly. Francis shot him a quick smile as he walked down the hall, side by side as they headed to the kitchen, down the stairs and to the left of the sitting room. As the reached the door, Francis moved, an arm coming around Arthur, hand hovering just above the small of the others back as he opened the door to the kitchen. 

“I hope it hasn't cooled too much, I plated it before I went upstairs to get you,” Francis explained as he put a little pressure on Arthur's back with his palm, urging him into the room. Arthur nodded, taking a new tentative steps forward. He inhaled a breath, breathing in the delectable sent of Francis' cooking and his stomach grumbled in appreciation. His eyes flickered to the 'table', that is to say, the butchers block island in the middle of the room which had been set up so that one sat on the end and the other sat on the side so they were close to each other. Two slender candles sat in the middle, flames flickering gently. Francis pulled out a seat for him, more of a stool then anything else, but with a high back on it, and he couldn't help the flush that accompanied the small smile that pulled on his lips. 

“What's wrong with you Frog? I thought you were not here to visit me. But you don't seem to be spending a lot of time with Matthew,” he said in a lofty tone as he twisted in his seat. The Frenchman had his back turned from Arthur, and when he turned towards him he had two wineglasses in one had and a bottle of wine in the other. Arthur merely stared at him. “I'm not drinking tonight,”

“But, Angleterre, it's only one glass of wine. It will not kill you to have a few sips. I thought you might like it, I brought it with me from home,” He set the glasses down on the block before showing Arthur the label.

“Meursault? You brought me Meursault?” Arthur asked, as bit taken back. Francis popped the cork out of the bottle and poured some into both glasses, the neck of the bottle clinking against the rim of the glass. “Why?”

“Well, I could say that I brought it just so I could use it to get you alone and drunk, but that would not be completely truthful,” Francis started carefully. “I thought we could sit and talk for a while. Matthieu has been talking me you have been cruel since Alfred left, hardly talking to him outside of yelling and fighting,” Arthur looked at him with narrowed eyes for a moment before picking up his glass and downing its contents in one burning gulp. “Let's eat dinner,” Francis added softly, trying to change the subject as he started refilling Arthur's glass, ignoring the look of loathing Arthur continued to shoot him. 

~*~*~*~

Dinner had been a quiet affair, Arthur had hardly spoke a word at all as he politely used all his table manners; sipping carefully at his wine as to not drink to much, taking small bites of veal and vegetables until his plate was cleared. When he was done Francis picked up Arthur's plate and then his own, placing them both into the wash basin to soak with the rest of the dishes he had dirtied. He topped off both of their glasses and motioned for them to exit the kitchen and take things into the sitting room. He turned towards the table before leaving, pinching out the candles dying flames with his index finger and thumb. 

They moved quietly over to the sitting room, where one of the servants had already started a fire. Arthur moved to take his normal chair and Francis sat across from him, with only the low coffee table separating the two of them. Francis swished the wine in his glass carefully. 

“How has the war been going on your side of this?” Francis asked softly, setting his glass down.

“We are fighting the same side for once you dunce. So unless you didn't hear we got Admiral Kornilov killed, then the seize fire. Other then that nothing has really happened outside of normal,” He commented as he shifted uncomfortably, crossing his legs. Francis nodded in agreement with Arthur as he too, crossed his legs, clasping his hands together, resting them on his thigh.

“Yes, I've heard that too. Well. I guess we can leave it at that. Come now; converse with me. We have hardly seen or spoken since Alfred left. Need I remind you that it wasn't your fault? Alfred is his own person, he's at the age were he wants to go off on his own-”

“Shut up!” Arthur cut in. “I will not talk about that brat of a child!” 

“Fine! Let's talk about Matthieu then. He seems pretty happy taking care of this Ivan fellow,” he said, shifting again, waving his hand his hand nonchalantly. 

“Stupid Russki,” Arthur muttered, taking a drink. “You do know who is is yes?” Francis cocked his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. “That's Braginski. Ivan Braginski,”

“General Ivan Braginski?” Francis asked, eyes widening. Arthur nodded. “So that's why you've kept him so long. Hasn't given up anything I take it?”

“Hardly,” Arthur growled out shaking his hand in a round about motion. “All he ever says is things in Russian, except for when he is with Matthew, and even then it's just a few words that are hardly audible,” Francis shook his head. 

“Well telling Matthieu not to see him if not going to help with that. You need him to get information from Braginski Arthur, you're just ruining you chances,”

“I know, I know, don't remind me. Why are you hear again Frog?”

“To ravish you?” Francis laughed as Arthur flushed only at his response. Francis stood, put a hand down on the arm of Arthur's chair, leaned over his legs and tilted his head up using his thumb and index finger. “Can I kiss you?” He murmured softly as he leaned in; Arthur's eyes widened as Francis' tongue flicked out against his lips before pressing against them. He slipped his tongue into Arthur's slack mouth stroking his tongue against Arthur's. Arthur finally flinched, pushing Francis away with a push of his hand against his face. Francis let out another chuckle as he backed away slightly, trailing a finger over the others flushed cheek. “Oh, you're so easy to get to blush,” he laughed. 

“To hell with you!” Arthur barked out angrily, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. Francis only shrugged his shoulders as he sat back down. 

“I can always taste that earl grey,” he commented, licking his lips. Arthur snorted, turning his head away from Francis to look into the fire. 

“I'll repeat myself again, To hell with you,”

~*~*~*~

 

Matthew pressed his body against the cold steel of the door, far out of Ivan's reach. 

“I-I'm sorry! I s-still don't h-have them!” He stuttered, eyes lowered to the ground. Ivan growled lightly, but didn't get move to get up. He only tilted his head up, eyes narrowed at Matthew. 

“Matvey, I've been vating a long time,” He growled out. “I vant out of here,” He pushed himself up off the stone floor and took a step towards Matthew. “Come,” He motioned for Matthew to come closer to him. The blonde froze, eyes glued on Ivan's. “Now,” He hissed. Matthew let out a shaky breath before forcing his legs to move forward, moving within Ivan's grasp. The older man grabbed his arm in a tight grip, yanking him over so he was chest to chest with Ivan almost, and the elder grabbed his chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting his head up.

 

“I..I...” Matthew tried to explain, but Ivan cut him off with a simple press of his lips against the younger mans. The blond tried to pull away, but Ivan's other arm snaked around his waist, holding him in place. 

“You vhat? You promised me you vould get that key Matvey and I've not been seeing it,” Ivan growled out, moving from Matthew's lips, kissing down the side of his jaw, down his neck. Ivan's hand moved up from his waist to the back of his neck. Matthew's breath hitched as Ivan's teeth came out to play, biting and nipping at his neck; sucking until the blood rushed to the surface. A noise escaped form Matthew's throat, causing Ivan to pull back and look Matthew in the face. The younger mans shoulders shook and his breaths came in shuddering gasps. Ivan brushed a thumb over his hot cheeks, while his other hand retreated from his neck, sliding back down his back, stopping to rest at the base of his spine. “You are so shy Matvey,” Ivan murmured, nosing against Matthew's ear. Matthew pushed his hands against Ivan's chest, and Ivan let him go, watching as he scrambled up and away from him. He looked at Ivan as he backed against the door, just outside of Ivan's reach. His right hand rubbed against his neck where Ivan had left his 'love bite'.

“Y-you..y-you c-can't do t-that!” Matthew shuddered out. “I-I have suitors c-coming to s-see me! F-father will be e-even more u-upset now!” He rubbed against his neck, shoulders still shaking. “P-Papa is working as fast as he can,” He ended in a whisper. 

“Francis?” Ivan asked. “Ah, Da, Arthur and Francis were together at one point.. I forgot this,” Ivan murmured. Matthew nodded. Ivan shook his head before moving to sit on his small cot. 

“I-I'll b-bring the wash basin n-next time,” Matthew murmured, lowering his hand from his neck to knock on the door behind him. The door slid open and Matthew skittered out of the cell and past John and George without a second glance. 

~*~*~*~

Matthew took at the back hallways up to his room, avoiding all the help, and going backtracking around his father's rooms as well as the kitchen. As soon as he slipped into his room he ran to his powder room and locked the door behind him. He moved to his vanity, sitting down in front of it, staring at himself in the mirror. He let out the breath he had been unconsciously holding and ran a hand though his golden locks, pushing his hair back behind his ear, exposing the darkening bruise on neck. He touched it gently, wincing as he put a little bit of pressure on it. He lowered his hand, shaking his hair out around his ears again before his hands went flying over the contents of his vanity, before finally finding a small container. He unscrewed the lid and fine powder flew every wheres as he set it down on the table top. He took out the small, fine wool puff covered in an even finer flesh coloured pigment. He began to apply the powdered wool to the bruise on his neck, trying to cover it up. He bit his lip in frustration as it failed to cover up the darkening mark, regardless of how much pigment he applied. He tossed the wool pad down onto the counter top, a frown on his face, before he stood and exited his bathroom. He quickly moved to his closet, grabbing the first scarf he came across; a beautiful rich red one made up of a soft silk. He slipped it around his neck tied it as he headed back into the bathroom to make sure the marks were covered.

“Shit...” He groaned softly to himself, adjusting the scarf. “Papa will defiantly notice this...” He let out a long sigh as he fought with the scarf some more before giving up. Shaking his head some more he left the bathroom.

He peaked out the door, looking left and then right before he slipped back out of his room and shut the door quietly behind him. Stomach growling, he turned in the direction of the kitchen, hoping that Francis and Arthur had finished their supper and retired to upstairs parlour; he took the servants route to the kitchen and let out a happy sigh of relief when he found the kitchen empty, dishes in the wash basin. Searching around, he found some rolls in the bread box, he pulled a few apart then grabbed the butter dish off the counter before pushing himself up on a stool in front of the island in the middle of the kitchen. He buttered a roll before tearing a piece off and eating it. He groaned softly, letting his head roll back and looked up at the ceiling. He closed his eyes tiredly and remained that way for several minutes until he heard the doors hinges creak open.

“Mattie! Y-you're home!” Came a shocked voice. Matthew tilted back slightly, grabbed at the butchers block island to steady himself. 

“J-Jack!” Matthew hopped down off the stool and ran the short distance to his brother, wrapping his arms around him in a hug. “It's been a while since I've seen you! You got so big since you've been gone!” Jack grinned sheepishly, rubbing his finger over the tip of his nose. 

“Shh, not so loud. I'm not here for long. And I don't really want Dad to know, yeah? He's already fighting with Russia, and it hasn't been long since Alfred left...” He looked away from Matthew's questioning gaze. 

“What's wrong?” Matthew asked quickly, in a hushed voice. “Where you looking for Papa? He's here as well, visiting,” Jack shook his head. 

“N-no, I... my people aren’t happy right now..I'm not sure what to do. I think there might be some... how would Dad put it? Ah, civil disobedience,” He spat the words out with a shake of his head. “I'm of course, hoping it's nothing, but with the miners wanting more land and..well...I don't know,” he ended with a sigh. “I just needed to get away for a few days, so I thought I would see what was up at the old house but it seems to be just as depressing here as it is at home, only it's colder here,” Matthew took a step closer to Jack and placed a hand on his arm. 

“Just don't let it get to you. And what ever you do, please, do not do what Alfred did. That's all anyone needs,” Jack sighed softly shrugging away from him. 

“You're always so laid back Mattie, how do you do it?” He asked, moving to lean against the counter. Matthew shrugged, a smile pulling at his lips. 

“Secret,” he replied with a laugh. “Did you want me to make you something to eat?” Again, Jack shook his head. 

“Nah, I had dinner on the boat earlier, so I'm good. Maybe in the morning?” 

“I thought you were not going to be staying? Have you changed your mind already?”

“Oh shut up you. You said Francis was hear right? Him and Dad getting back together or something?” Jack asked.

“Ummm...w-well...” Matthew stuttered then trailed off. “Well, they've been... they've b-been fighting with the R-Russians... and.. he has a f-few p-prisoners in the cells d-downstairs. I...” Jack snorted. “Papa's trying to help me g-get the k-keys to his cuffs,” 

“Tsk. Mattie, always wanting to help people. You're too naive sometimes. Is he—I'm assuming it's a he-- you know that anyone like that is just using you to get what he wants right? Bet he's being super sweet because you bring down his meals?”

“N-no.. I..I mean yeah, it is a man, but.. he's not..” Matthew dropped off, looking down towards the floor, avoiding Jack's eyes. His hand went to his neck, rubbing. Jack's eyes narrowed at him. 

“Is he hurting you? Threatening you?”

N-no, nothing like that.. I..I like him..He's v-very h-handsome, and.. I—I want to help him,” Matthew murmured in explanation. Jack took a step towards him and lifted his head up with his index finger. He moved Matthew's head left, then right, looking him over, before nodding. 

“Be carefully Mattie. You don't know what he can do to you--” 

“Stop it! God! Why does everyone think I'm a child?” Matthew pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“We worry about you Mattie, but listen, I'm going to head up to my old room and crash for a bit. Remember not to tell Dad I was here,” He kissed Matthew on the forehead and turned, walking towards the servants hallways that lead upstairs.

“If he asks, I'm telling!” Matthew yelled after him; he received no response, only the sound of Jack's heavy boots hitting each step as he travelled upstairs. Matthew looks at the remains of his bed time snack and let out a sigh as he tossed what was left in the trash. He picked up the dirtied cutlery and placed it in the wash basin with the rest of the dirty dishes. He pondered for a moment about washing them, but then after staring at it for some time he shook his head and left it for the maids to clean in the morning with the breakfast dishes. Moments later he followed his brothers steps up to the second floor and and snuck down the hall to his room, tiptoeing past Arthur's room, and then Francis's room, although he doubted that Francis was in his own room. He slipped into his room and began stripping his clothes off soon as the door was shut and locked. He pulled his blankets back and collapsed into a hopefully dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~*~*~*
> 
> Author's Note.
> 
> I did not want to write this chapter... it hated me and I hated it. But plot doesn't write itself. Need some FrUk anyways lol. More Ruscan next chapter.


	4. Visits and Goodbyes

When Matthew went though the house as he made his way to the kitchen for breakfast the next morning, he did not see hide nor hair of Jack. He passed Francis slipping out of Arthur's room, a sly grin on his face as he held a finger to his lips in a motion to keep quiet. Matthew snickered softly and continued on his way, making a mental note to go and see his papa after breakfast. It was still rather dark outside, barely later than six in the morning. The maids were bustling about cleaning and beginning the days meals. The bowed to him as he passed them and when he sat down at the butchers block like table in the kitchen and came out and placed a plate of food before him after a moment. 

“Sarah, can you please make up a plate for...our prisoner?” He asked the maid in a soft voice.

“Oh, of course M'Lord,” She said with a courtesy before turning away from him and doing as she was told. Matthew continued to eat his breakfast in peace, listing to the sounds of the staff bustling around. He smiled gently at her. 

“I will return shortly, I need to see papa,” He told her in a soft voice before slipping out of the kitchen and down the hall to the living room. His father was standing in front of the fireplace gazing upwards towards the rather large painting resting above the mantel. Matthew's eyes wondered upwards to the painting as well, of Arthur, Alfred and himself, together in a family portrait before Alfred has moved out. “Papa?”

“Ah, Matthew,” He smiled and turned towards the younger blonde. “How are you this glorious morning? Let me greet you properly,” He flashed a grin to the mauve eyed boy, and took the few steps so that he could embrace him tightly, His hands moving around Matthew in an awkward manor as to slip a small iron-wrought key into the front pocket of his waist-coat. “You really have grown in your time away from me, haven’t you?” Matthew blushed sheepishly.

“Papa, I send you painting. You can see how I've grown, there is no need to squeeze me so tight!” He laughed.

“Oh hon hon, but it is not the same my petite Cheri, I will always find a way to visit, and to give you a good squeeze,” His lips pulled into a smirk as he looked over Matthew's shoulder to see Arthur walking into the room. “Your Father as well, we cannot forget L'Angleterre. He loves a good squeeze,” Arthur barely opened his mouth, his expression furious. “Just kidding!” Frances laughed, hands raised defensively. 

“Mathias, what are you doing? Sarah is waiting for you,” Matthew frowned and opened his mouth to correct Arthur, but Frances beat him to it.

“Arthur! Matthew was just saying good morning, there is no need to be rude. Besides, you're one to talk yes? I thought you'd be resting after last night. You cannot hide that limp from me,” He chided, a grin pulling across his lips. Both Matthew and Arthur turned red at the comment.

“Fucking frog!” Arthur cursed at the elder blonde as he took a few steps forwards and Matthew took a few steps back before ducking out of the room and going back to the kitchen. He could hear his two parental figures arguing back and forth all the way down the hall to the kitchen.

Sarah had left a plate for himself plus a larger plate of eggs, bacon and a few biscuits. He quickly ate his merger meal-- he never ate much to begin with, let alone breakfast. He placed the empty plate into the wash basin before picking up the other plate in both hands and descending to the prisoners hold. He flashed a smile to John and George as he got closer and the automaticly unlocked and opened up the door to Ivan's cell for him without being prompted. He waited until he heard the slam of the heavy metal door before he walked over to the table that was beside the bed. He set the plate down and took a step closer to Ivan's prone body as he lay sleeping. The blonde brushed ash locks out of the elders eyes before brushing his fingertips against his cheeks, his lips and chin, down his neck. His body stiffened when a hand shot out and grabbed Matthew's slim wrist, dark eyes opening up to stare at him. 

“Matvey,” Ivan rumbled out, voice deeper from just waking up. He pulled on Matthew's wrist, causing him to fall forward onto Ivan. His cheeks heated up and he tried to move away but Ivan kept tugging until Matthew was mostly on top of him. He released the pale wrist in his grip before slipping his fingers into blonde locks and tugging forward, causing the younger to fall forward slightly. Ivan tilted his head forward towards Matthew's and pressed their lips together, his hand moving from Matthew's hair to the his neck, keeping him in place. Matthew whimpered softly, but opened his mouth to Ivan's tongue regardless, moaning softly as large hands travelled the length of his spine to rest on his hips. After a few minutes, they separated; Matthew panting to regain his lost breath. “Matvey. Vhen I get out of here, I will come back,” He pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You are mine,” He growled. Matthew shifted his body, moving so that he was sitting almost in the elders lap. He dove his hand into his front pocket, fingers enclosing around the key tightly. He pulled it out of his pocket and held it out before Ivan.

“P-papa worked some of his magic,” He murmured softly, as Ivan brought his hands back over Matthew's head, holding them out for him. His hands shook as he fumbled for the lock and stuck the key into the key hole. Finally after a moment the lock clicked and dropped from one wrist before Matthew moved to the other one. After another minute, the other cuff fell as well. Ivan brought his hands up to Matthew's face once more and pressed a hard kiss to his lips. Matthew opened his mouth to Ivan and kissed him back less then innocently, tongue pressing against Ivan's as he held out the small key and moved to press it into his hand. “You must take this with you,” he murmured softly. Ivan nodded, a sly look pulling at his features.

“My little Matvey, мой маленький подсолнух (My little sunflower),” He rumbled, and now that he was free, he moved so he could pin the smaller male beneath him. Matthew's breath hitched as Ivan first knocked the key from his shaking fingers before taking both wrists in his large hand and pinning them above his head. “All mine, da?” 

“...Da...” Matthew replied breathlessly, wide eyes looking up at Ivan. 

“And my little Matvey will going to remain pure until I return, da?”

“Da,” he replied again, in the same dazed, airy voice. 

“Matvey... Ve should need to make dis look convincing da? Since I vill be escaping from your care. I do not wish to harm you too much. You are so pretty...but even prettier vith those lovely bruises covering your pale skin...” Ivan trailed off. Matthew's brows furrowed as Ivan ran a finger down the side of his face. “So pretty...” His grip tightened on the others wrists, and the blonde began to wiggle under him.

“I-Ivan... Ivan that hurts!” He whimpered, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes as Ivan's other hand came to his neck and squeezed; lightly at first before applying more pressure. “I-I-Ivan--” He gasped out, fingers clawing at what he could reach of Ivan's, starting to struggle in earnest now. “I—I..Ivan...” He rasped, his struggles lessening as he fought to breath. He could see that darkness starting in eat away at his vision as he began to black out from the lack of oxygen that he was able to intake—tears leaked from the corners of his eyes which he kept locked on Ivan's. 

“Do not Vorry Matvey,” Ivan stated in a matter of fact voice. “You vill forgive me for this, and it is better this vay. I do not want you to see vhat I vill be doing to get outside of this room,” Matthew continued to stare up at him with eyes that were glazed over. He watched as Ivan spoke to him—watched his mouth moving to form words, but did not understand; could not comprehend what was being said to him. Ivan's face blurred when he leaned in closer to press a chaste kiss to his lips before Matthew blacked out completely. 

~*~*~*~

Matthew awoke to the sound of his father yelling. Loudly. Almost in a screeching tone. He whimpered quietly, and brought a hand up to his pounding head. He fought to swallow, his throat aching and sore. 

“L'Angleterre, please, you cannot blame Mattheau for this, it is not his fault. We both know that he is... weaker than us. 'Ell, I don't know if even I could take on Ivan for that matter. He is a large man, and an even larger country. I'm surprised he didn't escape before he did,”

“Yes, well that may be true, but we still needed to get information out of him!” Matthew could hear the anger in his voice, the disappointment that, even though he agreed that Matthew had been no match for Ivan that he still basicly let him go for a lack of better words. “Whatever! There is no use in arguing about the matter now. The bastard is long gone,” Frances hummed softly in agreement. 

“Oui, that is true,” Frances agreed softly. The silence stretched on for a few minutes before Matthew had mustered up his courage and rasped out for his two parental figures.

“P-papa,” His throat burned with the effort and it took him a moment to swallow; saliva easing the burn slightly. “Papa, can I have some water?” He rasped and within seconds Frances was at his bedside a pitcher of water and a glass tumbler in his hand. Frances shot a glare to Arthur as he helped his son sit up and handed him the glass, placing both his hands around the circumference of the object. Matthew closed his eyes and took a drink of the cool, refreshing liquid. He instantly felt ten times better than he had. However when he opened his eyes and saw the dark purple rings around his wrists, his hands started to tremble. Frances took the glass from him when he noticed the water starting to slosh around the rim and down over Matthew's fingers. “P-papa, I...I--”

“Shh,” The elder told him. “Rest darling. I need to speak with Arthur some more. We will speak after you are feeling better,” Matthew could do nothing but nod as Frances helped him to lay back down in the bed. The elder tucked him into bed and brushed his hair from his eyes before turning to leave. He exited the bedroom with a click of the door latch.

Matthew sniffled. He felt like such an idiot. Had he been so enamoured with Ivan he had failed to notice that the man was toying with him? He had wanted nothing more than to have Ivan's affection and doting all for himself? Was he so desperate for attention? After a while of being lost in his thoughts, Matthew finally managed to fall back asleep, only to be plagued by nightmares.

Frances was dozing in a chair next to the bed when he awoke the next time, his own slim hand in the elders. He awoke as soon as Matthew started to push himself up into a sitting position.

“Mattheau, you're awake!” He greeted with a smile. 

“Oui, Papa,” He replied softly, eyes downcast. “I'm sorry,” He muttered. Frances raised a brow. “I can see why Father sees me as a failure. You must be disappointed,”

“Why would I be disappointed, Mon Cher?” He paused for a moment, looking towards the door. “Did we not accomplish what we set out to do?” He murmured in a low voice. 

“Yes but-,” 

“No buts. Our plan was a success. We shall leave it at that,”

“But Papa...I feel so... used,” Frances pondered for a moment. 

“I know Mon Cher, I know. And I doubt you expected him to hurt you as he did, but I think he thought that it would be the only way to get you out of trouble. I think in his own way he was..I do not know... trying to be a gentleman, not wanting you to come to harm by your father. Ivan knows loneliness Mattheau. More than you know. I think he may have thought that this would be something to remember him by since he could not really give you anything else,” Matthew brought his hand up to his neck and gingerly prodded at the tender flesh with his finger tips. “It will be a daily reminder that will be there for weeks to come,” Frances added softly. 

“Papa...He'll... come back won't he?” Matthew asked, giving Frances a hopeful look.

“If he said he would then I would think so Mattheau. Ivan was always one to stick with his word. Did he tell you anything else?” The heat rose to Matthew's cheeks and he looked away from Frances as he rubbed at his wrists.

“He... he told me I was his little sunflower and that I needed to..to.. remain...p-pure,” The smirk that appeared on Frances' face was scary. “P-papa?”

“Oh Mattheau, we will have your little Russian soldier back before you know it,”

 

~*~*~*~

In July of the following year, after the Ottoman's engaged the Russians in the city of Giurgiu and conquered it Matthew's engagement to Sadiq was announced. The wedding was to take place over a year after the announcement. Frances was furious when he received Matthew's letter and Arthur could not be more pleased. And while his father could have picked someone much, much worse, Matthew still held hope that Ivan would somehow return back to England. He had not heard much of the man although Frances kept him updated on the war where Arthur would not even talk about it in front of him. He was still angry because of Ivan escaping. By the end of the month he was all but exploding in rage at Frances and how he lost against the Russians that were still hiding out in Dobruja. Muttering under his breath all the times about the French costing him; and being weak. 

It wasn’t too much longer after Frances' failed expedition that he returned to England to lick his wounds as it were. Matthew was delighted to have him back in the house again, to have some attention. With Arthur ignoring him and Alfred so far away, it was nice to get noticed for a change. His father became more and more recluse as the days went on. His fiance came by the house for weeks at a home every f months so that they could get to know each other but Matthew still felt ignored by the older man. He felt so small compared to the large Turkish man. He seemed so large in his uniform, tall, dark and imposing. Decked out in that oversized greed coat and pale scarf. He did have some rather unique outfits though, especially his formal ware. Such intricate designs.

He glanced between Sadiq and Frances, who was sitting opposite of himself. His cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. Did they really need to be supervised? He felt like a small child. As much as he didn't want to, he was really starting to like the stoic man. He bit at his lip. Maybe it was the hands. He did find himself liking large hands of late. He let out a soft sign and turned his attention to his father. 

“Papa, could you get me something-- sorry, could you get us some wine please? I don't know about Sadiq, but I am rather parched,” Frances stood up from his seat on the couch next to Sadiq. 

“I suppose I could do that for you, Mon Cher,” he responded before turning to look at Sadiq with a sly grin. “Now don't you do anything that I wouldn’t do,” he chuckled before ducking out of the sitting room. Matthew stood up and moved to sit beside Sadiq. 

“Matthew,” the older man murmured as the blonde picked up his hand and wound their fingers together. He leaned against the dark haired man who looked down at him, gazing down with hazel eyes. Matthew met his eyes as he looked up at the brunette, leaning up as he did so. Sadiq leaned down to press his lips to Matthew. The blonde closed his eyes and let himself enjoy; the slight roughness of the Turks chapped lips against his, the scape of his stubble against his skin. Matthew let out a soft moan as Sadiq cupped the younger mans neck.

“Uh-Huh,” Matthew froze, his eyes snapping open at the sound of Frances' clearing his throat. He pulled away from Sadiq, but not before he shivered at the feel of the older mans calloused fingertips trailing down the column of his throat and across the top of his collarbone. Frances shook his head as he passed the pair their wine glasses. “And I wonder why Arthur insists on a chaperone,” he chuckled. Matthew's cheeks reddened and he looked between Frances' before turning to his fiance-- he couldn't help the little smile at the slight pinkness that showed on the tanned mans cheeks. Frances sat down on his other side so that he was between the two men. A few minutes of silence he let out a soft sigh and picked up Sadiq's hand within his own again. Frances allowed it, flashing a smile towards the pair, and before long quiet conversation filled the room once more.

~*~*~*~

September came and with it, more fighting. Arthur's, Frances' and the Ottoman's worked to take over the Russian fortresses at Sevastopol located to the south of Calamita Bay. And as September turned into October and November--December. The weather grew colder and Matthew began to see less and less of Frances and nothing of Sadiq. Yes, he still received their letters-- Frances telling him of how the battles were going, about the Russians they came across, and Sadiq wrote about the wedding and his love for the blonde. Matthew couldn't help but think of those few months with Ivan only a year prior. Those large, calloused hands holding him, the harshness of his kisses. The way his voice sounded and how he said his name. There of course, were more prisoner's that came and went but there was no hide nor hair of his...Hmm, what would Matthew call Ivan exactly? Not a lover... but he couldn't really call him anything else now could he? He felt almost like he was cheating on either man. He did like Sadiq. He liked him a lot, but he didn't feel that same pull as he did with Ivan. There was something about the Russian that kept him in his thoughts. He was roused from his thoughts as his father called for him. He turned towards the bushy browed man, dressed in a fine black suit.

“Matthew, stop gawking and come. The carriage will be here any time now,” Matthew pushed himself to his feet and brushed off the overcoat he was wearing. Matthew furrowed his brows as he walked over. Arthur was pissed. Not that that was a big change from the normal-- he still felt resentment towards Matthew, but mostly he was mad at France at the moment. The Englishman did not want to leave the country, let alone go all the way to the Constantinople to spend time in Sadiq's home. He followed his father outside to where servants were packaging luggage into the rear of the carriage. With a sigh he stepped up into the wooden contraption and sitting down on the plush bench-like seat. After a few moments of bickering with the head housekeeper, Arthur joined him and the carriage started to move. 

The carriage led to the boat which took them across the channel. The landed in Calais and went back to carriages. They continued along the boarder towns of France, passed though Germany and Austria. Hungry and Romania and Bulgaria. Days turned into weeks and the cool air warmed up some the closer they got to Ottoman territory. Matthew was excited that they would soon arrive. He hated long drives in the carriage and this two and a half week voyage had been the worst one yet. The country-sides were beautiful of course, and all the places they had stopped to rest wonderful as well, but it would be nice to rest in something other than an inn or sleeping against padded bench of their transport. Arthur was prudish the entire length of their journey as well. Dull in conversation and even duller in appearance.

As they drew closer to Constantinople Matthew began to see more and more troops, armed guards, soldiers and the like. When they reached the city they were greeted by the head of their personal guard who let them into the city and to Sadiq's home. Massive to say the least, made up of stone, large open areas, gardens, all beautiful really. As the pulled up to what appeared to be the main entrance of the home, Sadiq walked out into the sunlight, dressed in a simple white tunic with a red vest and dark pants. A yellow-orange sash was tied around his waist and a fez perched upon his head. He stepped down and walked the distance to the carriage. He opened the door for Matthew, offering his hand as he stepped down and out of their transport. Matthew greeted him with a kiss to both cheeks, much to Arthur's displeasure. The younger man smirked inwardly at the others displeasure. Arthur it seems did not want him to show any sort of affection towards his soon to be husband. But then again, he did take more after Frances in most aspects, romance included. Arthur was such a bore sometimes. 

“Thank you for coming to visit me at my home,” Sadiq greeted. He extended a hand to Arthur who took his hand.

“Thank you for inviting us,: Matthew responded meekly.

“Jolly good then. Glad to finally be here,” Arthur clapped Sadiq on the back as the turned to go into the large home. Sadiq motioned with his servants who went around behind them and retrieved their luggage in the carriage. 

Sadiq led them on a tour of his home, showing them the library, kitchen, dining and living rooms, before ending the tour in their guest rooms. He left to let the pair settle in for the night before the evening meal. The two blondes had conjoined rooms, in which they could enter the others though a shared bathroom between them. Matthew set out his belongings before moving into the bathroom to smooth out his hair. He knocked on Arthur's door, opening the door after hearing the others bark of an answer. The younger blonde plunked himself down on one of accent chairs that were facing the window. Arthur, after a few moments of silence while he finished putting away his own belongings moved to set opposite of him, and the silence spread on until they were summoned for supper.


	5. Take off

In February, Sadiq left them at his home while he went to Eupatoria to take over command of his armies that rested there. It was near the end of their visit so Matthew didn't mind too much. Arthur didn't seem to care much either way. But it was the fact that Sadiq had gone off to lead a battle with the Russian's had Matthew a little worried and he begged Arthur to stay until he returned just to make sure he was okay. They argued about the matter for a few days before Arthur finally gave in to the face that by staying a little later than expected and waiting until he returned to make sure that he did in fact return in one piece make it seem like he was a good spouse. Or would be a good spouse, since they were not married as of yet. 

It was a lonely time, but the Ottoman Empire was a lovely place. He spent a lot of time in the gardens behind Sadiq's home reading different books he had found in the library. The sun was just beginning to set when Matthew heard horns trumpeting in the distance. He sat up from the lounging chair he was laying on and turned towards the door. After a moment when no one came to retrieve him, he got up, tossed the book onto the chair gently and began to make his way though the house.

When he reached the front entrance he saw that Arthur was leaning against the doorway watching as troops paraded past. 

“Well it seems like it didn't take too long for the Ottoman's to push back those filthy reds,” He muttered as Matthew stepped up beside him. Matthew worried at his lip as he continued to watch and wait for Sadiq to appear. The progression seemed to go on forever it seemed before he finally spotted a battle worn Sadiq walking in line with some other higher ranking soldiers. He took off running, ignoring the yell from his father. With red cheeks he nearly knocked the Sadiq down. His hands pressed cupped the brunette's cheeks. The elders eyes widened in surprise as the blonde pressed a chaise kiss to his lips.

“I'm so glad you're okay,” He murmured softly, cheeks reddening further as he ignored the crude calls from the other men around them. He let his hands drop from Sadiq face to his shoulders, before dropping to take his hand. A smirk pulled on Sadiq's face and he shook his head.

“Such a lovely welcome home from my lovely wife to be,” He murmurs back, pressing close for another kiss. “We've pushed the Russians back and their leader has been replaced. The Tsar has grown ill and weak. Now we only have to wait for Braginski's next move,” He told Matthew and the others around him agreed. “That weak man will fall quickly and this war will be over!” The soldiers cheered at the decoration. Matthew worried at his lip before moving to rest his hands on Sadiq's chest. The rest of the party had moved onwards; going onwards to either their homes if they lived in the area or the barracks they were staying in. The other generals chuckled, clapped Sadiq on the back and wished him a good night before heading their own ways. Sadiq shook his head away as he brought his hands to join Matthew's. He led them into the house to join Arthur. Matthew took Sadiq's hand and let them all into the large sitting room where the two elder men sat down and began talking. Matthew went off to get some alcohol and bandages to clean the Turks wounds.

Sadiq hissed as Matthew pressed a cloth doused in liquor onto an open cut on the side of his face, starting near his temple and running down near the middle of his cheek. He cleaned away what blood and dirt had remained and bandaged the wound. They continued to talk about the war, the battles etc. as Matthew kept on patching up the brunette.

“..But the Tzar, they say he has gotten sick and that General Braginski is back to leading the main troops again. I was glad when he went missing, it was nice to see their troops fall to pieces,” Sadiq nearly snarled out. Arthur lowered his head and raised his hand.

“That bastard didn't go missing. He stayed in my prison cells until this one--” He jerked his thumb towards Matthew-- “Let him escape. Had him for months, though never did get any bloody information from him,” Sadiq turned his gaze back Matthew, eyes narrowed somewhat. 

“Let him escape? Hm. That does not surprise me. He is very week yes?” Arthur rolled his eyes in agreement. Matthew kept his eyes down and silently continued to clean the cuts along Sadiq's arms and hands. His cheeks were red with embarrassment. Sometimes he hated Arthur. The bastard knew it wasn't as old as the two of them, and Ivan was fairly old as well. All three were well trained in war and battle. 

“May I be excused?” He asked, voice meek. The two elders ignored him for a few minutes, seemingly not hearing him. “May I be excused please?” He asked in a louder voice. Arthur's brows furrowed for a moment. 

“Go on then,” He spat out, annoyed that Matthew had interrupted. Matthew quickly gathered up the supplies and exiting the sitting room. He quickly deposited everything back into the medical box in the bathroom. He then moved though the home to the room he was staying in. He laid down on the bed for a few minutes, burying his head into the soft feather pillow. He couldn't stop the fresh tears the pooled in the corner of his eyes and soaked into the pillow.

He didn't know why people thought him so weak. He could hold his own if he had to. But he loved Ivan. Even if he didn't physically Ivan was much larger than himself. After a moment he froze-- realizing what he had just admitted to himself. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and wiped his eyes. He didn't feel the same way about Sadiq as he did Ivan. Of course not. He liked the brunette, but he didn't love the man. Yes, he admitted, he did like him quiet a bit but he not in love with him. He wasn't sure if he could ever feel the same way about the man as he did with Ivan. He wiped at his wet eyes. He was at a loss as to what he should do. He could wait. Ivan had said that he would return. But when? When this war was over? It could be years before the end of the war. He would be wed in the early summer. He couldn't break a marriage once it was done. He didn't want to cause trouble for his own family-- Well, not Frances at least. God, how he just wished Ivan would show up and whisk him away.

Matthew froze for another moment. Eupatoria really wasn't that far away. He was only a few hours away perhaps my carriage to the port and then it was perhaps two, maybe three days to reach the shore. As long as he could charter a boat. He slapped his palm against his forehead. He needed money. He couldn't charter a boat without it. Moving quickly, he made his way over to the bathroom, slipping though. He made a quick rapid session of knocks on the door leading into Arthur's room. He counted to thirty in his head, knocked again—counted to thirty again. No answer. He cracked the door open and slipped inside. He surveyed the room quickly and did not see hide nor hair of Arthur. He slipped further into the room and started towards the night stand beside the head of the bed. He fumbled for Arthur's pouch of coins, pulled the strings loose and grabbed a handful of coins—a mixture of pound Stirling and lira. He shoves them in his pocket before tying the bag back up and placing it back it the drawer. 

He made a quick double check to make sure everything was back in the same place it was before he came into the room before slipping back over into his own. Matthew pulled the coins out of his pocket before he sat down on the bed again and began to count the coins. Twenty-three pounds Stirling and eleven lira. Matthew shook his head, hoping that it would be enough for fair across the Black Sea. He knew the lira wouldn't be enough but the pounds may be enough to cover the voyage. After a moment he snapped his fingers, remembering his own slight coin pouch. He moved over to the armoire and dug though his belongings until he found the small pouch. Inside rested another six pounds Stirling. Surly that would be enough. Twenty-nine pounds. God he hoped it was enough.

He placed all the money back into the small fabric bag and hid it away in the dresser before turning back to the bed. He glanced out the window for a moment—the sky reddening as the sun set. He pulled off is clothing and grabbed his sleeping gown from the foot of the bed. He tugged back the blankets after he had changed into his bed clothing and slipped into bed. 

He faked sleep when a servant came to rouse him for the evening meal. 

He flat out ignored Arthur as he spoke down to Matthew for not coming to dinner. 

It was only when Sadiq came into his room that he roused enough to bother giving the man a response. They spoke quietly for a few minutes before Matthew decided he was going to continue to act like a young child and turned over on his side, back to Sadiq. Sadiq called him out as such before leaving. 

~*~*~*~

The next morning found Matthew going though his semi-regular morning routine, met his father in the kitchen with a blank stare. He was polite as he normally was; went back to quiet and meek. Arthur took this at face value and treated him like he normally did—like he wasn't there. Matthew mulled over his thoughts until the morning rolled into the afternoon. After lunch he murmured in soft tones to Sadiq about going for a walk before leaving the grounds and slipping down towards the docks. He wondered around the pier for a bit before finally walking up to one of the sailors.

“Can I help you?” The man asked as Matthew stood there, eyes downcast and worrying at his lip.

“Ummm.. I.. I need to go to E- Eupatoria.. C-can I charter a f-ferry?” He stuttered out, voice barely above a whisper. 

“You'll have to speak up boy, you talking like a mouse,”

“I-I need to charter a f-ferry to E- Eupatoria please,” He repeated, raising his voice louder. The man gave him a sceptical look at the request.

“The only ones going over there are the navy boats since its been part of the war and such. You won't find a smaller boat goin' all that way,” Matthew turns his gaze to the man, eyes glassy. 

“P-Please...my.. my fiancee is there and... he's injured and.. and unable to travel... I really need to see him,” Tears well at the corner of his eyes. “Please... I can pay... I really want to see him...” The man—middle-aged and brunette—lets out a loud sigh as he scratched at his forehead.

“Fine, fine. But it'll cost you...” he trailed off, mulling over the costs in his head.

“I can give you twenty pound Stirling,” Matthew offered. The man raised his brow and looked Matthew over.

“Twenty-five and you have yourself a boat,” He challenged back. Matthew nodded in agreement. “When are you expecting to set sail?”

“As soon as possible. At night if possible,”

“This is beginning to sound like somethin' I should be ignoring and saying no to,”

“I.. It's nothing like that... I.. I don't like boats. I get sea sick...but it's the fastest method of travel..I hope to sleep during the night.. that's the only reason, really,” The man pondered this.

“Hmm, Alright. I'll buy it. Give me a day to get ready and then come back at dusk that night. Bring yer coins then,” Matthew nodded and flashed him a sweet smile. 

“Thank you so much, sir,”

“Aydin. The name is Aydin,” Matthew gave him a little smile.

“Thank you Aydin, I will see you in a days time,” He turned and left, heading back up towards the home. It only took him about fifteen minutes to reach the main entrance and another five minutes to reach the kitchen. It was only a few hours until dinner, so he drank his fill of water before leaving to go back to the sitting room to read. 

~*~*~*~

“Matthew, wake up please,” Came a gruff voice to his left. The blonde kept his eyes shut and ignored the other man. “Matthew, I know you are awake,” A frown pulled at his lips and his eyes snapped open. The book that was resting open against his face snapped shut as he shut it.

“What is it father? Could it have not waited until I woke up? Is it that urgent?” He snapped at the older man.

“Matthew, mind your manners!” Arthur snarled back, grabbing his face in anger and squeezing his cheeks together. Matthew yelped in pain and struggled to back away and get out of Arthur's grip When the man did release him he let out a whimper and rubbed at his cheeks. Arthur continued to glare at him as stood there. “We are leaving by weeks end. Been here too long,” Matthew said nothing at all in response, thanking god that he had not decided to leave any sooner then weeks end. He didn't want his father to ruin his plans that he had set up. He couldn't blow his chance. He knew he had to do this now or never. And he had to do this now as he'd never get another chance. Not before the spring when he was to be wed. 

“Of course Father,” He muttered as he cast his gaze down and reopened his book to a random page. “Was there anything else that you have decided to inform me about?” He glanced at the elders hand, watching as it twitched before he clenched it tightly. 

“Nothing else boy. Now you'd better smarten up. I won't tolerate any backtalk,”

“Yeah, cause we all know what happened last time someone back talked to you,” He muttered, only to have Arthur backhand him, the sound echoing in the large room. Matthew felt tears well up in his eyes at the force of the hit, the flesh smarting, but he didn’t say any more as he pressed a hand to the heated flesh.

“Don't you even! Bloody fucking hell, just like that idiot of an older brother you are! Get out of my sight!” Arthur nearly screamed at him. Matthew avoided looking up as he stood, clutching the book in his heads so tight his fingers ached and his knuckles turned white from the pressure. He quickly left the room, his eyes watering, but not before looking up at Sadiq who stood in the doorway, roused to see what the commotion was by Arthur's raised voice, but the man only gave him a stern look, like he was the one at fault. Matthew pushed past him and ran to his rooms. He shut the door was a bang as he slammed it in anger, his small frame shaking.

Tomorrow night could not come soon enough.

~*~*~*~

Before Matthew had left his room in the morning to go and have his morning meal he packed up his belongings that he would bring with him. Two sets of clothing, his coins, a small cake of soap and some personal grooming items, as well as his royal seal. He then set the small luggage case back in the closet and hid it behind his remaining clothing.

He did not speak with Arthur for the duration of the day. Thankfully his interactions with his father were very limited. His face still hurt from the harsh slap he had received. Not to mention his cheeks being squeezed together like they had been. He was still fuming about it but he didn't let Arthur see. 

He had a nice quiet afternoon with Sadiq now that he was back and they enjoyed a nice lunch outside in the garden and spoke about the upcoming wedding. Matthew felt guilty about lying to the man, whom for the most part was rather nice-- aside from the fact that he often agreed with Arthur on things about Matthew and continued to overrule him in the many things that needed to be decided. But the young blonde man let it all slide today. After all there would not be a wedding after this evening when he left so why bother arguing about it?

It wasn't like he wanted to get walked down the isle by his father dressed in a long white wedding gown. Not for Sadiq. It was the only thing he did dispute the man for No. He would refute and refute the request. He would never A, wear a dress for the man, nor would he wear white for the man. Black perhaps. Or another colour, but never white. He dropped the subject as soon as Arthur had appeared and they hadn't picked it up afterwards. No. He thought. The only man I will wear white for is Ivan. 

~*~*~*~

After dinner, Matthew excused himself from the sitting room with the explanation he would be going for a walk and would return before too long. He ran to his room to retrieve his belongings before throwing the windows open and jumping down the two or so feet to the ground. Once his feet touched down, he took off like a dart, running down though the garden to avoid being seen out the sitting room windows and running down to the docks.

Matthew's face split into a grin as he came to a halt just as he met the beginnings of the wooden pier, even more so happy to see that Aydin was just putting the last crate of supplies into the boats cabin.

“Aye, there you are. I was wondering if yer were coming or not. You got the coins?” he asked, brushing dirt off the front of his shirt. Matthew dug into his bag and retrieved the coins, counting them out for Aydin. The man nodded and pocketed the coins that he took from Matthew and motioned for him to come on board of the small boat. “I assume you want to head out now?” Matthew nodded eagerly. He let Matthew to a small room under the main cabin where one would rest during long voyages. Another man was already down and resting in the small room, back against the wall of the cabin, legs spread out on a small couch. “This be Demir, my first mate. Harmless,” Demir nodded, looked Matthew over then went back to resting his eyes. 

“Thank you. The both of you. This really means a lot to me. And I'm sure my fiancee will appreciate it as well,” Aydin shrugs it off.

“You're the one payin' us,” he replies with a shrug. “It should only take a few days to get there, as long as the weather holds up,” He claps his hands together. “I'll be heading up so we can head off. Demir, I'll wake you at dawn so I can sleep,” The other man nodded his head without opening his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” The other man drawls. Aydin shrugs again and turns, leaving. 

The two remaining occupants of the room say nothing for a few moments and Matthew began to get settled into a chair that was in the room. He set his bag between his feet after sitting down in the chair and rubbed at his belly. They had barely started moving—he could hear the waves against the side of the hull. He groaned and closed his eyes.

“Here. If you get sick it's better to do it in here,” The clang of metal rang as the man set down a rusted bucket in front of him. Matthew smiled weakly at him. 

“Thanks,” He pushed his bag closer to the chair so he could move the bucket closer. He hadn't been completely lying when he said he wanted to sleep for the start of the journey. He hated sea travel. He closed his eyes again and leaned his head back against the back of the old chair.

All in all, Matthew couldn't believe his luck. He managed to get out of Constantinople and on his way cross the Black Sea and no commotion had been stirred up yet. God. His father probley hadn't even noticed even though he had been gone roughly an hour now. He wondered if Sadiq had noticed by now. Matthew shook his head. No matter. He was out in the water now and he would not go back. And he had been ever so lucky to come across Aydin as well. The cost of the fair was not too bad and it was just the three of them from what he saw. After all it was a very small steamboat. Smaller than what he had seen in England by far. Barely bigger than a fishing boat. One small smoke stack and lovely moderately sized water wheel. He hummed softly to himself as he started to doze off. 

Only a few days and he would be on land again and able to start his search for his overbearing Russian. He was so close but yet so far away. Matthew couldn't help but chuckle to himself. His father was only getting further and further away. He shook his head lightly again and let out a long breath, but it wasn't long before he was roused by voices.

“What is it?” He murmured as he straightened up. The sun was shining brightly though a small window to his left. 

“Nothing, just changing shifts. I'm going to sleep,” Aydin told him in a low tone. Matthew rubbed at his eyes. 

“How far did we get?” He murmured softly, as he let out a yawn. 

“Not too far, still about a day and a half, maybe two days to go. Depends on the weather. It's nice right now but it if starts to storm we will have to slow down,”

“Well then.. Let us hope for good weather,” Matthew stated with a grin and sat back down to go back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudo's for jeejee12 for the little..subplot XD


	6. Reunited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a much different turn then expected...but luckily it keeps coming to me.

Matthew nearly hopped and skipped down on pier when they landed in Eupatoria-- he was that grateful to be on land. He hugged the pair of men before he left the boat, pressing a pound Stirling into each their hands as a thank you for putting up with his uneasy stomach. They clapped him on the back and wish him luck and a speedy recovering for his other half. He flashed them a smile and ducked out of their reach. He moved away from the busy pier and into a less busy part of the city. 

He found himself a small in, and thankfully it was low cost—a silver piece would give him three days of rest and one meal a day. His luck seemed to continue to get better. But he knew he could not linger. By now his father was more than furious with him and was on the search. He had no idea as to how Sadiq would respond to his future wife running off. No worse than Arthur, he reasoned. 

It is just past mid-morning when he left the inn and began asking people about the Russians. Some people were more helpful then others—some more sceptical than others when he told them he was looking for his fiancee, a Russian soldier named Ivan. But after a day on his feet and seemingly running around in circles he gave up and went back to the inn. 

He washed up before bed and slipped between the cool sheets his thoughts on the soldier he had taken care of for months in his fathers prison.

Morning came before he knew it and he was out and about asking about the Russian soldiers. But it wasn't until afternoon when he finally got someone who helped. He spoke with a young woman who was sympathetic for his cause and pointed out a path to a small encampment were some wounded men were being treated that was beyond the city limits. Matthew thanked her profusely and even gave her a few of his Lira as thanks. The woman thanks him and carries on with her day. 

The path the woman pointed out was up a half decent sized hill, about fifteen miles out of the city-- but at the top there was in fact, an encampment. And Soldiers. A lot of Soldiers. Oh God. He never even thought this through did he? He was tired, sore and about ready to collapse. The daylight was dwindling down as well. An apparent Englishman (Canadian!) coming into a Russian camp. Matthew shook his head and stepped forward towards the soldiers, looking as meek as possible. 

“Ostanovka ! (halt!),” One of the soldiers growled out when he was only a few meters way. He raised his hands in surrender and paused. 

“Y-ya is...is--ishchu Ivan? Umm.. B-Braginski?” He stuttered out in the worst accepted he could have ever imagined. He worried at his lip.

“Pochemu ty smotrish' na nego? (Why are you looking for him?),” The soldier asked and Matthew wished to god he knew more than a few words of Russian. He closed his eyes for a moment and racked his brain for more words. 

“M-my zhe-zhenit'sya? (We're to wed)” He asked in a questioning tone, hoping it meant what he thought it did. The two men laugh, throwing their heads back. Matthew frowned but then the larger of the two men turned away.

“Ey, general, vasha zhenshchina zdes'!(Hey, general, your woman is here!)” He yelled. 

“Poshel na khuy, ublyudok, ya ne imeyu zhenshchine,(Fuck you, you bastard, I don't have a woman)” Came a response and Matthew instantly perked up at the voice. It sounded close, but Matthew couldn't see hide nor hair of him. 

“Khorosho tot, zdes' govorit, chto on,(well the one out here says he is)” There is no response, only the thud of boots hitting the hard ground. Matthew caught a flurry of ash blonde locks and a raised hand coming down on the back of the guards head. His other arm was wrapped up and in a sling

“Vy--” His eyes met with Matthew's. “Matvey?” Matthew threw him a shy smile.

“Da, Ivan?” He breaths out.

“Matvey!” Within minutes, he's in a bone crushing hug, as much as he could be with only one of Ivan's arm around him-- laughing, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Matvey, vhat are you doing here?” He asked, pressing a kiss to Matthew's temple. 

“I..I was in Constantinople..Father has arranged a marriage with a Turkish man for me... We were visiting and... I... they came to fight you here, but I had hoped.. hoped...” He hiccoughed. “But... But you are not too hurt are you?” He asked after a slight pause. 

“Nyet, Nyet,” Was the response he got. “I am not hurt badly. Only bullet in shoulder,” Matthew cupped the elders cheek in his hand, thumb stroking the flesh there. 

“I was so lost without you...” He murmured, and Ivan kissed his forehead. 

“Come Matvey, come and rest,” Ivan took his hand in his and led him into a tent. Matthew ducked inside the flap of fabric that made up the door while Ivan held it open for him and he looked around. It was modest of course-- a make shift bed in the corner, a large table with maps and charts in the centre and to his left against the 'wall' caught his eye like nothing else. It was a suit of armour made of fine steel and well crafted. It could have rivalled his fathers had it only been in gold. He dropped Ivan's hand and took a step closer. “You like?” He questioned.

“Da,” Matthew responded softly, his fingers brushing against the cool steel. “It's very unique,” He added, fingers following the odd swirls brushed into the metal.

“Da,” Ivan agreed. Silence washed over the pair for a few moments before Ivan spun him around. His hand grasped his chin between two thick fingers. 

“Da...” It wasn't any lighter than a whisper of agreement-- Matthew looked up at him with large, wide eyes, and the taller man leaned down, pressing their lips together. Matthew whimpered into the kiss and closed his eyes. But when Ivan's hand moved down to his neck he flinched unconsciously and his eyes opened again when Ivan pulled away from the chaste kiss.

“Matvey... I am sorry for vhat I did...” He slowly stroked the pale column of flesh under his fingers. “I hope you did not have too much pain...” Matthew shook his head as he looked up at Ivan. A small smile tugged at his lips.

“No Ivan, I forgive you. You had to do that in order to escape and complete the plan. I understand the reasoning behind what you did,” He leaned into Ivan's touch. “I would die if it would make you happy,” Ivan chuckled.

“Now, now Matvey, don't go saying that. I would never be happy if you died. I never want that to happen,” Matthew laughed as well. Ivan picked up Matthew's hand again and led him to the bed where they sat down.

“I-Ivan, I'm... I'm worried...I'm sure Father has more than noticed my absence. He will find out and come after me. He could already be here...I..I...”

“Shh,” He pressed a quick kiss to Matthew's lips. “Not to vorry, dorogaya. Even if ve do part again, I vill find you. You are mine after all,”

“D-da Ivan, yours,” He stayed silent for a moment. “But..But Father has promised me to Sadiq... w-what can we do about that?” He asked.

“You no worry. Ivan vill take care of that Ottoman bastard,” Matthew's eyes widened. 

“What will you do?” He questioned. Ivan shook his head. 

“Do not vorry Matvey, let it be, and trust that it vill be taken care of if need be,” Matthew let the subject drop as he was kissed once again. He let out a squeak of surprise when Ivan ran his hand down his side and the older man took the opportunity to slip his tongue into Matthew's mouth and the blonde moaned softly as the elder moved the thick muscle against his. After a moment or two passed, he pulled away, both panting lightly. Matthew quickly covered his mouth with his hand, his cheeks blazing red. Ivan moved his hand to rest on the others hip “Matvey, vill you lay down with me?” Matthew bit at his lip and looked away, cheeks red. Ivan's reddened slightly as well when he realized what he had stated. “To sleep, only to sleep, Dorogaya,”

“I-Ivan.. I... I can't.. we are not married. I cannot dishonour you like that. If you would provide me with a blanket, I will sleep at the foot of the be,” He told Ivan who looked scandalized. 

“You will do no such thing. My Matvey will not sleep on the floor. Get on the bed,” Matthew worried at his lip before he pulled the blankets back and crawled into bed. Ivan sat down on the floor and sat down, back leaning against the frame. “Sleep Matvey,” He turned his body around enough to press a kiss to Matthew's lips, then his forehead. “Good night,” Matthew pulled the blankets up around him and eventually dozed off to sleep. 

~*~*~*~

Matthew woke up to yelling and the tip of a sword at his throat. His eyes widened in fear and he franticly moved his eyes darting around for Ivan. Ottomans. How--

“Kaptan, biz onu bulduk! (Captain, we found him!),” One of the soldiers yelled, twisting his head towards the entrance. Matthew swallowed thickly. This would not end well. 

“P-Please!!” He whimpered as the man grabbed a handful of golden locks and he scurried to follow where the man was pulling him. Shoved to the floor, he took Matthew's hands and tied them behind his back. “I-it hurts...” The soldier rattled off something in Turkish again, but Matthew knew even less Turkish than he did Russian. Dirt stuck to his face where his tears had fallen down his cheeks , which were pressed into the dirty floor. He hiccoughed and tried to calm himself. “P-please!” He tried again but the soldier only pressed a heeled boot to the back of his head, pushing his head further against the floor of the tent. He could feel the slight tremble of feet coming closer after a few moments of being held down like that—some harsh words in Turkish, then the boot was removed. There was a swish of air as something was swung-- then a grunt and the thud of something, or someone falling.

“Get him up,” Growled out a familiar voice—Arthur! His mind connected and hands grabbed at his arms, lifting him up enough to kneel. Dirt caked his face, rubbed into his silken hair and though his clothing. Matthew's gaze flickered upwards briefly before he turned his gaze back to the ground. He watched Arthur walk closer to him but he did not meet his gaze nor look up. The hand coming across his face was no surprise however. He was sure once they arrived in England it would be worse. Much worse. He sucked in a shaky breath but said nothing as his Father continued to hit him. By the time he was done Matthew's nose was bleeding, cheeks swollen and his bottom lip raw from biting down on it to keep himself as quiet as possible.

The only time he let himself look up was to look past Arthur, and directly at Ivan and only Ivan. The large man was struggling against the Turks that held him, they had his hands tied and cuffed behind his back with iron cuffs. He snarled at them, cursing them in Russian. When he caught cornflower blue eyes however—watching as Matthew shook his head no, he calmed down. Arthur's eyes narrowed as he watched the interaction before backhanding the blonde once more. 

“That is enough Arthur,” Arthur looked over at the voice's owner and raised a bushy brow. 

“I don't think that's for you to decide Sadiq,” He spat back at the other man. “You're worse than Alfred,” Arthur grabbed his face and Matthew couldn't stop the pitiful whine of pain that left him. Arthur shoved him back as he released his grip and Matthew fell on his backside.

“Matv-Ugh!” Ivan grunted in pain as one of the soldiers holding his arms hit him with the butt of his rifle. Matthew could do nothing but look away, tears streaking paths on his already filthy face. Matthew looked from his father to Sadiq. He should have saw this coming. How could he have been so foolish? He brought pain and imprisonment to Ivan and all his men. 

“F-father...” He stuttered out. “S-Sadiq...P-please don't p-punish these m-men. T-they... they are not at f-fault. I came here on my o-own,” Arthur turned to grab a rifle from one of the Turks. He lifted it and slammed the butt of it into Ivan's face. Blood pored from his nose as the rifle end hit his nose with a sickening crack. Ivan fought to throw the men off him, snarling and growling loudly. “F-father!” he cried out but the older blonde only seemed to hit the other man harder as he fought. “I-Ivan, ostanovit'! pozhaluysta, prekratite bor'bu! (Stop, please stop fighting!)” He cried out but it didn't seem to matter. The soldiers had him on his stomach, face into the floor.

“Take them both to the ship. I don't care were you put them just keep them apart,” Arthur sneered and the soldiers looked to Sadiq for a moment before picking up the two—hauling them to their feet and dragging them out of the tent. Arthur turned to Sadiq once they were out of sight; rubbing a hand over his face. “I suppose the wedding is off then? Would you like to buy him then?” Sadiq didn't respond to either question and only looked away. “Right then,” He tossed the rifle to the side and brushed his hands on the front of his uniform. He motioned for the Ottoman to follow him as the left the tent to follow after the soldiers to the ship.

~*~*~*~

Matthew let his body sink, no longer able to hold himself up on shaking legs and allowed the men to pretty much carry him to the ship. He could feel his face swelling under the rough punishment from Arthur, could taste blood on his lips. He desperately wanted to check on Ivan, he couldn't see him where he was being dragged behind him. If he hadn't wanted the wedding to go onward, this now reenforced it. He still felt such a fool, bringing those men closer to death. They led the two, now prisoners up a loading ramp and onto the ship before leading them down to the brig. Much to his surprise the soldiers didn't split the pair up, merely put them just out of reach of each other. They clasped a thick iron shackle around Ivan's neck and one at his ankle aside from leaving his hands clasped in iron behind his back. Matthew on the other hand, had the rope removed from his bound wrists, and was collared. They tried to cuff his ankle as he could hardly stand, they felt there was no need. Matthew whimpered as they called him weak among other names. 

As soon as they were alone Matthew crawled as close to Ivan as he could get.

“I-Ivan, I..I'm so sorry!” He bawled, tears running down his cheeks, face aching. Ivan, who had his back against the wall, head tilted to the side and back as well, cracked an eye open.

“Da...Matvey, is okay,” He murmured back loud enough for the blonde to hear.

“No, no, it's not okay!” Matthew cried. “F-father will.. he'll execute you, I know he will...I..I never..we never...”

“Matvey...you look so pretty...you vill look beautiful running though the sunflower fields when I take you back home, to Mother Russia,” He slid his body along the wall as far as he could, and when he reached out, and Matthew did the same, only the tips of their fingers brushed. Ivan's head thunked against the wall as his head fell back again—as he fought to stay conscious. “I vant to marry Matvey, see him valk down the isle in his white gown, to grow rounded and full with my children...” He had to be hallucinating.

“I-Ivan..You know I cannot have children,” He almost could have laughed if it were any other circumstance. The older man didn't respond—his eyes nearly closed, he licked at his lip; tasting blood. “Ivan, I...”

“Matvey...” He trailed off. “I know, Matvey,” His lips pulled at the corner in a small smile. “Matvey is the perfect, princess and someday your prince charming will come to your aid,” Matthew's eyes widened.

“No, no, I want you to come, you're my prince charming Ivan!” He cried out to him, stretching for him. 

“Da, Prince Ivan, I not been called that in very long time. I go to sleep now Matvey,” He muttered and closed his eyes.

“Ivan, no! Don't fall asleep!” But his cries fell on deaf ears as the mans breath evened out into a slow and steady rhythm. Matthew sat back against the wall as well, knees drawn up and wrapped his arms around them, trying to make himself as small as possible in case anyone came for them.

~*~*~*~ 

Matthew lost track of time. He knew they were on the water now, because of the steady thrum of the steam engines. He didn't think that too many days had passed since Arthur came to retrieve him. Two days perhaps. Perhaps three. He had been sleeping for most of the time. No one had come to look in on them, to make sure they were alive. He should have been more surprised by this fact than he was. Gingerly as he could he prodded at his face. The swelling had done down some, but it still ached something awful. He couldn't imagine what Ivan must be feeling. He was even more battered than Matthew was, and even from here he could see the bump where the cartilage in his nose and broke, much to Ivan's annoyance. He had tried to fix it but it only seemed to make blood pour from his nose. Matthew had been so worried that Ivan would not wake up after he had fallen asleep but thankfully the man was made of tougher stuff because after what seemed like forever, the man woke up.

“Matvey, my princess,” Ivan muttered softly, and Matthew looked up at the man who was watching him with an odd expression. “I vill rescue you little princess,”

“Ivan, I—I really don't see that happening.. I appreciate you wanting to, but, Father will never let you go now,” Ivan shook his head and let out a laugh.

“Not to vorry. The Kings of old vill make it so,” Matthew couldn't reply to a logic that was beyond him. He had no idea who the 'Kings of old' were.

“Ivan--,” Matthew was cut off by boots thudding close by. He moved away from Ivan slightly and curled in on himself. 

“Trust me,” Ivan told him.

“I will,” He whispered back, just in time to see his father come into view. He lowered his head to his knees and curled in on himself as much as he possibly could. He felt the wisp of Arthur's long coat brush against his knees when the man stopped in front of him and judging by the rattling of chains, Ivan must have stood up.

“Stand down prisoner,” Arthur seethed out and Ivan snarled at him in response. After a moment of movement, Ivan grunted in pain and fell to his knees. “Much better,” Arthur said, pleased. “Now, boy, what shall I do with you? You've sullen my name more than enough with this treason. Letting yourself be swayed by this devil and going against the sanctity of God and marriage,” Matthew looked up at him with a horrified expression. What was Arthur going on about? He never did anything that would go against God and marriage!

“Father, I never--,” 

“In the bed of a man, to whom you are not married to, how sinful Matthew! I would have thought you would know better. What man will want you now? Perhaps I will send you to a brothel. I'm sure I can profit from you that way,” Matthew paled.

“N-no--,”

“Oh yes Matthew, I can. You are my property and can do with what I want. I'm sure someone will enjoy a upper-class whore,” He hissed. Matthew looked up at him, eyes full of tears. The soldiers that had accompanied Arthur were struggling to keep Ivan contained as he struggled to get at Arthur. 

“I n-never...I n-never...I'm pure...Father! Please believe me! I did not do anything with him! I swear! It was innocent! Ivan didn’t want me to sleep no the floor, he wasn't even in bed with me!” Arthur shook his head in disbelief. 

“Stop with your lies!” He thundered, raising his hand. Matthew lowered his gaze, cowering. Arthur lowered his hand after a moment of silence from the boy and turned his attention to the Russian.

“And you. You will be put to death,” He stated before turning to leave.

“Your day of reconsigning vill come Arthur Kirkland, just you vait,” Ivan yelled after him. “Just you vait!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also like to mention I know hardly anything in religion.


	7. Sneaking

When they were finally unchained to be moved, Matthew couldn't stand. His face was gaunt and exceedingly pale, his legs so weak from disuse that the soldier that was supposed to be retrieving him had to toss him up on his shoulder and carry him up to the main deck. He couldn’t recall how many days had passed, many, he thought, because they sailed around Europe because Arthur refused to take them across land.

“M'Lord, your son seems ill,” Matthew couldn't keep his eyes open long enough to look at his father as he came around and lifted his head up. 

“As it would seem. Put him in his room and lock the door for now. I doubt he would fake being this weak,” Matthew whimpered softly. When the pair were out of sight, Arthur slammed his fist into the closet available surface. He turned just in time to see three heavily armed guards dragging Braginski from hold onto the deck. One had a hold of the thick iron collar that was still around his neck-- his hand curled under what give there was in it, causing the iron to rub harshly against his throat any time he tried to move away from the man. When Ivan met Arthur's eyes he lunged at the emerald eyed man, managing to throw off two of the guards and dragging the third within a few feet of Arthur before the others were able to stop him. “Put him in the prison. Two of you guarding at all times, six hour rotations. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, M'Lord!” The said in unison and went towards a carriage made for transporting captives. They managed to get Ivan pushed inside the cage, but not before he sunk his teeth into one of their hands, sending them flying back once the door was locked securely. After that they learned to stay their distance if they had the chance. 

Locked in a cage of steel bars with not a chance of escape for now, Ivan allowed himself to relax slightly against the bars. His shoulder throbbed in pain—he knew it was most likely infected at the very worse, and at the least, the stitches were tore open. Either way, blood had seeped though the bandages and though his shirt. Having his hands behind his back did not help with the matter. The sun beat down on him as precession made its way to the Brits home. He let out a hiss of pain, pressing his shoulder into the cold metal of the bars. He listened to the clip-clop of the horses hooves against the ground, but could not see where Matthew was. And with a second thought gathered that the foolish boy must be inside one of the carriages.

What a beautiful, foolish boy Matthew was. What little food and drink they had been given, Matthew only took a few bites before handing the rest off to Ivan. The Russian closed his eyes. How pitiful he must have look to eat what little food he had been given off the floor like a dog. He watched day by day as Matthew grew weaker and yet the boy wouldn't hear hardly a bite of the food he had given and gave the rest to Ivan. The only explanation he ever got was that Arthur would not put him in prison if he was ill. Regardless of how Arthur felt about him, he would not allow his own flesh and blood to die of starvation and illness if he had a choice. If he where to kill Matthew, the boy had protested, if he did, but he knew Frances would never let him no matter what the Canadian did. He insisted that Frances would save him from Arthur. Ivan shook his head. So far perhaps, Matthew was correct. Arthur was already taking care of him—if you could call it that anyways. Ivan tilted his head skyward and let his head rest against the bars behind him. How the hell would he escape this time?

~*~*~*~

Matthew let out a low groan upon waking. His body ached, his face hurt and sharp pains emerged from his stomach. He turned his head ever so slightly to the left towards the end table to find a pitcher of water and a glass. Matthew bit his lip as he sat up and turned towards it, hand reaching out, trembling. As soon as his fingers were around the circumference of the glass he brought it closer to himself and then moved to hold it with both hands to ease the tremble, only to find himself cuffed to the bed, unable to use his left. Regardless, the cool water was refreshing to drink and he finished the glass quickly before leaning over to pick up the pitcher to pour some water—however he was unprepared for just how weak he had grown, as had barely moved the pitcher a few inches before it fell out of his grip and crashed to the floor, shattering. The door flew open and a guard came in. 

“I-I'm sorry!” He snivelled, covering his face with his hands. “I-it was an a-accident, I swear!” The guard said nothing as he knelt down to clean up the mess. 

“It's okay Matthew, there is no reason to fret. You are very weak from travelling,” John. Thank the Lord for small mercies. Up until now he had thought the man and his colleague, George had been killed by Ivan. He had not seen to two men since that fateful night.

“J-John, it's so good to see you! I thought you were dead!,” He cried and wished he was able to give the older man a hug. “Regardless! I am sorry nonetheless for the mess. I did not think I had grown as weak as I have...” John quickly cleaned up the broken glass and disposed of it before returning with a towel to sop up the water. He worked in silence before going to the bathroom once more to hang the towel up to dry. “J-John!” He called, although his voice was barely above a whisper. John paused to look at him. “C-can you...can you take this cuff off me?” he asked softly. John shook his head.

“This would be my turn to apologize, young master, but no, I cannot. Your Father was... very expressive on what would happen if anyone but himself removed the cuff. And I'll let you know as well that I'm not that easy to get rid of! Although that guy sure can pack a punch!” Matthew gave him a fleeting smile at his last comments.

“That's okay, I understand John. I wouldn’t want anything more to happen to you because of me. I am sorry about what happened to you and George,” He told the guard. “Do...do you think you could get me some more water? Or something to eat? Or has father put restrictions on that too?” He asked after a few fleeting moments of silence.

“He was not that cruel. He has permitted though necessities,”

“Oh, and has he extended those permissions to his other prisoner?” Matthew asked, feeling angry at his father. Really. He ran away from an arranged marriage and Arthur called in treason? For wanting to have his own life and marry who he wanted to? John looked uneasy at his question.

“I'm.. not sure,” He replied. “I have not really moved from this post since you arrived. George will be switching with me soon, but...” He trailed off. He looked at the floor for a moment then moved to get Matthew's glass. “Let me get you some more to drink and then I'll call for one of the maids to bring you something to eat yes? Perhaps get you some tea as well?” Matthew nodded before lying back against the pillows once more. He looked over at his hand which bound at the wrist by a iron shackle. A prisoner in his own home. God I am so stupid he thought to himself. I would have never gotten away from Arthur. He looked away. How could he have been so foolish? He knew the wedding was off—why would Sadiq want a wife who would never be loyal? As long as Ivan was alive he would never give up. He worried at his lip and wished that Francis would come to the house. Or write him. Arthur would never allow him to leave to visit his other parent and he wondered if Arthur had figured out where the key had gone all those months ago. John returned with a glass of water and Matthew pushed himself up again to take the glass from him. “I'll..go ring the maid and return to my post. Give a shout if you need anything, alright?” Matthew nodded and allowed a small smile to tug at his lips. John would always help him if he needed it, but would never go against a direct order from his father. If only...if only he could change that and get out of the cuff. He set the half full glass down on the nightstand and laid back down again, trying to will himself to sleep.

~*~*~*~

Ivan spat out a tooth. The Russian was bleeding and bruised from more than just his face. He knew he had at least a one broken rib. He snarled at Arthur and his guards and the emerald eyed man slugged him in the face again. He spat a mix of blood and spit at the man. Arthur let out a a grunt of disgust.

“You'll never get anything out of me, no matter how hard you try,” 

“We'll see about that Red. We'll see,” Arthur kicked him in the stomach before turning to leave. Ivan spat at him again. 

“See all you vant Pig. No matter how you try, you vill never vin. If you kill me, you vill have lost both sons. You vouldn't vant that, vould you?” He sneered, blood dripping down his chin. Arthur froze in his tracks. He flicked his fingers at the guards and the moved around Ivan, forcing him to his knees in his chains. He struggled against them but it was all rather useless, his hands were pinned together behind his back in iron shackles—unlike the ones on the ship, there was hardly any slack between them, no wiggle room. A swift jab to his throat had him choking and gasping for breath, followed quickly by bash to the back of the head while he was leaned forward, dripping more blood onto Arthur's shoes. The guards pushed on his back until he was bent forward, forehead nearly touching the floor at the painful angle. He twisted his face slightly to the side before Arthur could smash his boot into the back of Ivan's head. Ivan hissed in pain as the heel of his boot dug into his skull. “F-fucking pig!” Ivan snarled. Arthur only pressed his heel into Ivan's head harder

“Shut your filthy mouth!” He snarled, smashing his boot down again and for once Ivan didn't respond. Arthur kept him like that for a few minutes before releasing him. “Chain him up. No visitors,” The guards nodded at the command. They hauled Ivan up and pushed him back to the wall to chain him with a iron collar. Ivan growled low in his throat and used what had available to him—his teeth. The guard yelped in pain as Ivan bit down on his hand and refused to let go. It took the other guard smacked him repeatedly in the back and mouth to get him to let go, eventually he did. Once the collar was on and bolted. The two men, one nursing a bruised and bleeding hand, left the cell, locking the door secure. Ivan let out a angry yell, struggling against his bonds, but it was useless.

“Yebat'!” He cursed. He could hardly move more than two, maybe three feet in either direction. Enough slack to lay down on the small bed (much to small for Ivan, cold stone) and a bucket (in which he was supposed to use as a toilet). The cell held little else save for a thin blanket that covered the stone slab he was expected to sleep on. After a moment of quiet thought, he cursed again, realizing his hands were still pinned behind his back making him ineligible to do anything by lie down on his stomach or just to simply sit. Who knew when the next time someone would be opening that door. He shook his head and sat down. He would have to deal with issues as they came for now. But for now he would allow himself to think of no one but Matthew.

~*~*~*~

Matthew stirred in his sleep as Arthur went into his bedroom but didn't wake. The elder leaned against the shut door and watched his youngest sleep. He tapped his boot against the floor as he thought over everything that had happened. After a few minutes he spoke.

“Matthew,” He spoke in a low tone, walking slower to the slumbering boy. He stirred again but did not wake. “Matthew,” He spoke louder.

“Hmm..” Matthew hummed in his sleep, hearing the voice but not registering in. 

“Matthew!” Arthur nearly yelled and he jolted awake, arms jolting. He cried out in pain as the metal of the cuff scraped against the tender and already abused flesh of his wrist. 

“F-Father,” he whimpered out, rubbing his free hand along the reddened skin on his wrist. Arthur narrowed his eyes for a moment before putting his hand in the front pocket of his blazer and producing a small key. He handed it to Matthew who looked up at him with wide eyes. “F-Father... thank you!” He hurried to unlock the cuff before he changed his mind. The cuff dropped onto the bedding and he fingered the key momentarily before handing it back to Arthur. “T-Thank you F-Father,” he murmured, looking down. 

“Matthew,” Arthur says once again, looking down at him pointedly. “Do you understand what you have done? How you have dishonoured our family?” The younger man bit at his lip as his eyes began to water. 

“Y-yes,” He whispered, refusing to look up. 

“If you knew then why did you do what you did? That Russian is the enemy. Sadiq has refuted your engagement. Are you happy now?” He ended in a sneer. Matthew did not make any more to reply. “How what will I do with you? No man will have you now. I'm sure Sadiq has not kept quiet on this matter or not, although I doubt that there was a chance of any other suitors coming to wed you,” Matthew worried at his bottom lip.

“F-Father..I..,” He paused. “I want to marry Ivan,” He whispered, and Arthur strained to hear him. 

“You WHAT!?” He thundered. “You will do no such thing! Even if he was of Russian descent, I would never, NEVER allow you to marry such a heathen!” He grabbed at Matthew's golden locks and pulled his head back. “Do not forget that while he is alive now, it can easily change,” He ended in a hissed. Matthew let out a pitiful whine before Arthur released him. 

“I...I understand,” Matthew murmured, looking up to meet Arthur's eyes for the first time. “I..I am sorry for bringing dishonour to our family. I...I...P-please...Please don't abandon me!”” he cried, tears flowing freely down his reddened cheeks. Arthur shook his head and moved a hand to cup Matthew's cheek, smudging the tears there.

“Then learn not to disappoint me,”

~*~*~*~

It was a long few weeks until Arthur had softened up enough to allow Matthew to write to Frances. And when he wasn't in his room he was followed by a guard to make sure that he did not get into anything that he was not supposed to. It was painful. He knew gaining the trust of his father back would be hard. And he knew that Arthur would not forgive him easily. He worked hard, was prim and proper, never spoke unless someone requested something of him, and did as he was told. Arthur had thankfully allowed him to request a visit from his Papa as well. He often thought of Ivan, and desperately wanted to visit the man in his cell, but to even think of it was beyond treason in the eyes of his father, who was rather tight-lipped on his prisoner.

The morning of the day that Frances was supposed to arrive, Matthew was near ecstatic as he sits down with his father for their morning meal, but he let his mind mingle on the means he used to bring to Ivan all those months ago and he wondered if his father was feeding the man properly. He shook his head to rid himself of such thoughts while in the presence of Arthur. Besides the point that the answer would have been a resounding No. 

“You are quiet this morning Matthew,” he commended. 

“I was just thinking of what will happen when this war ends,” He commended offhandedly before he realized what he had said out loud. A dark look crossed over Arthur's face. 

“Not what you think,” he muttered as he nearly slammed down his tea cup. “That Russian will not be let go if that is what you are thinking boy,”

“I-I never even considered that father. I didn't mean to upset you, I was just being honest about my thoughts,” Arthur said nothing for a moment before nodding and he picked up his tea again. Matthew went back to nibbling on a pouched egg and bread with jam but soon pushes it away and turns to his own tea that was slowly cooling. He adds a touch of maple syrup as sweetener. The pair sat in silence at the dining room table for some time before Arthur spoke up.

“I will be leaving shortly for most of the day as I have a meeting with some of the generals. I expect you to be on best behaviour until Francis gets here,” Matthew nodded eagerly. Alone. With Arthur gone from the house. For hours. 

His heart soared. His face remained passive. 

“I understand. I will probably take study in my room until Papa gets here, I fear I am behind on them,” He admitted, feeling a bit guilty for both lying to his father and actually being behind in his studies. Arthur made a noncommittal noise. He finished his tea and began to clear the table. He made a motion at Arthur's own discarded breakfast. “Are you finished?” He asked softly. 

“Yes, thanks,” was the brief response he got and he began to clear away the table. No comments about it being a maids duty. But then again he had not received them since they had returned home. He finished up in a matter of minutes and then excused himself to his rooms.

When he arrived in his rooms he quickly shut and locked the door to avoid and surprise visits before his father left for the day. Now was the perfect chance to see his... to see Ivan. He had no idea as to what he should call the man. He had promised him that he would be his, but...what did that make him? A lover? A mate? Or perhaps something more degrading? He frowned at that but then shook his head. Be couldn't let himself think like that. He moved over to his desk and got out his work books so he could quickly give the appearance of studying while he thought of the next step he would take to visit Ivan once his Father was gone. It wasn't much to plan really. It wasn't like he needed keys or anything like that. He only needed to get past the guards. Under the watchful eye of his father he had not even had a chance to go past the doorway that led to the cells. But, it really had not been all that long ago that he had been down there. Only George and John. They had both been dismissed from guard duty over himself, but after what had happened the last time they had guarded Ivan, he doubted that they were guarding him again. He sat down at his writing desk and opened one of his English books and set a piece of paper in front of him before grabbing a fountain pen. He tapped it against his book without thought.

Really though, without knowing who was on guard duty. And the only way he would know is to go down and find out. Now how to go down there without rousing any suspicion... Matthew pondered this thought until he saw Arthur's buggie pull away down the drive nearly an hour and a half later. He watched until he was out of sight. Biting at his lips, he stood up and left his rooms. He wandered around the house, seemingly without purpose, while he looked for John and George at the guard outposts stations both inside and outside the house. But he found the pair no where to be found. He quickly went to the kitchen and spoke with Sarah who was milling around and asked her to help him to up a few large trays of tea and sandwiches for the guards on duty. He went to the outside outposts first and the guard took very highly to the special treatment. He stayed at each 0stop long enough to get some information out of them—when the next guard switch was (three hours away) and the names of some of the other guards currently on duty, but most of that he knew. Within an hour he had stopped by all of the outposts outside the home (not that there had been many, just three of them—one in the rear of the house and then two out front at the two gates—) The guards smiled at him and ruffled his hair like he was a small child, but he digressed. Whatever it took, he wanted to at least get a glance at Ivan to know he was alright. To know that he was still alive. 

He made his rounds inside the house as well. The vault, the armoury, first—he spent a little time joking around with the soldiers. He knew these men, seen them on a daily bases so it was much easier to connect with them.

When he returned to the kitchen for the last tray, Sarah had whipped up a few extra treats for the prisoner's guards and he couldn't help but smile. He sure hoped this worked. 

Sarah opened the door leading down to the cellar for him and he thanked her again as he carefully went down stairs into the basement. He stiffened at the first catcall he received, but ignored it. He stopped at the first grouping of guards half way down the corridor and flashed them a shy smile, turned up his french charms. They question him as to why he's down here, but merely replied that he was being a good son and a good person by treating his fathers employees with a special mid-day treat during their shift and he was doing it for all the guards. They were sceptical but since it seemed innocent they allowed him to pass so he could give the remaining sandwiches and sweets to the remaining guards. 

To his relief John greeted him when he walked up to the last door. He smiled a shy smile at the pair and offered the tray to them. His eyes lingered over the door—different from before, it was a solid steel door, no large viewing window like the other cell. Only a slot, which opened with a lever, large enough to slip a bowl or tray of food though it. 

“Hello John, George. How are you today? Been getting any trouble today?” He asked in a slightly raised voice, hoping to rouse Ivan without actually seeming like he was doing it. John laughed. 

“Not from Mister I'm-gonna-kill-you-all-in-your-sleep here. Not lately anyways. Everyone else, well, just acting as normal. But Lord Kirkland has some strict orders on this one,” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, only to have something bang on the other side of the door. He knocked the butt of his gun against the door. “Eh, shut up!” He yelled. George pulled out a few chairs from a near by storage room and they sat down; Matthew held the tray in his lap and the two older men drank tea with him and ate sandwiches. They spoke together in soft tones for a while before the two guards heads started to drop and they began to nod off. Matthew's lips pulled into a soft smile. As soon as they were asleep he quickly ran up the corridor to make sure the other two guards were asleep as well. He ran back down to the cells door and fought with the latch to get it open. 

He had only taken a few steps into the cell, pulling the door mostly close so that he could still get out once John and George started to stir—hopefully not for at least an hour or two. He could barely react enough to step back a few paces as Ivan lunged at him. The chains that held him strained under the movement. 

“Matvey?” he asked, voice gravelly from either yelling or disuse. Matthew looked up at him. His face was bruised and cut. He was outfitted in a simple tunic, covered in blood and filth.

“Ivan!” He cried and took the few steps so he could embrace the man. Ivan pressed his lips against any flesh with the range of his mouth. 

“Matvey, vhat are you doing here? Vhere is your Father?” He asked after pressing a chaste kiss to Matthew's lips. 

“Gone for now. He had to go to London for a meeting with his generals,” Matthew replied. “Bare with me for a moment,” He backed away from Ivan and slipped out of the cell. A short time later he returned with a small basin of water and a wash cloth. “Let's get you cleaned up some, Oui?” he sat the basin down on the end of the so called bed and pushed Ivan back against said bed so he could sit down. He wrung out the wet cloth before carefully wiping the grime from his face and neck before moving to wash the mans hands, and what was visible of his arms. 

“Matvey...” Ivan growled softly, and took a gentle hold of the others wrist, tugging him a step closer so he could press his face into Matthew's neck. “Matvey,” He pressed a wet kiss to he others neck as he moved an arm around the thin body in front of his and pressed them together. Matthew gasped softly at the contact, shivering. 

“I-Ivan—,”

“Da, Matvey?” He murmured. Heat rose to the blondes cheeks.

“I-I will leave for a few minutes and you can finish washing yourself,” He moved to step back but Ivan's arm around him prevented the movement. 

“Nyet Matvey. Don't. You have started job, you finish,” His nuzzled his nose into Matthew's neck again. 

“I-Ivan, I.. I can't do that, I..That's private,” he whimpered in response, embarrassed. 

“Matvey, please,” Ivan murmured hotly into his ear and Matthew let out a squeak. He worried at his lip for a moment before he picked up the cloth again. He backed up a step and Ivan pushed himself up to follow. His cuffs clinked against the chains as he moved his hands. Matthew's hands trembled as moved to untie the loose knot that held Ivan's pants up and he fumbled with it. “Matvey, it's okay. It is just like vashing yourself, da?” Matthew looked up at him for a momentarily before moving back to his task. He finally got the knot undone and let Ivan's pants fall to the floor around his ankles along with his underclothes. Matthew bit his lip and looked away. Ivan chuckled at Matthew's embarrassed reaction. “Is first time seeing another man naked Matvey?” he asked softly as he took Matthew's hands in his own and pressed it to his flaccid cock. The red on Matthew's cheeks deepened, but they didn't break eye contact. 

“I-Ivan...” The older man slowly moved their hands and thus, the cloth along and encouraged Matthew to do it on his own. A moment later he dropped his hand away and placed it on the others hip. Matthew quickly cleaned him and set the cloth back in the basin to rinse. Ivan leaned forward and kissed the shy boy. 

“Matvey, vould you touch me?” He kissed along Matthew's jaw and down his neck. He took Matthew's hand in his own and pressed them against his half-hard cock. “I vant you so much Matvey,” Ivan breathed into his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. Matthew's fingers flexed around Ivan's cock before slowly moving his hand back and forth along the length. Ivan let out a low moan and hardened further under the others deft fingers. “Matvey...” He trailed off and took a step back before sitting on the bed; fingers flexing on Matthew's hip as he pulled him closer. “Nnnn, Matvey...” Ivan groaned, mouthing at the others neck. “Matvey, so pretty...so beautiful,” he murmured. Matthew unconsciously tightened his grip, causing Ivan to groan again, heat coiling in his belly. “So prefect, my little angel Matvey,” Ivan tangled his hand in Matthew's hair as he let out a low grunt, and shifted his hips forward into the blonde's hand as he came.

“Oh...” Matthew pulled his hand away and slowly looked down at his hand, covered in semen. He looked at Ivan and the older of the two brought him into a harsh, almost desperate kiss. 

“Matvey, you must go,” Ivan tells him as he pulled away. “I am fine. More than fine now. I do not vish for you to get punished by your father further. Your guards are starting to vake. Go,” Ivan stands and pulls his pants up, quickly tying them up so they didn't fall off his hips. He picks up the cloth in the basin, wringing it out quickly before taking Matthew's hand in his and cleaning it off. 

“Ivan, I—,” He pauses as Ivan presses the basin into his hands, cloth floating merrily in the water.

“Go. Ve cannot have you get caught. Do not vorry. Everything vill vork out Matvey. Stay diligent,” Ivan states and Matthew nods. 

“Okay. I will,” He presses a kiss to Ivan's forehead, then a chaste one to his lips before turning towards the door and leaving. He quickly disposes the basin back in the storage closet and returned to his chair that John had set out earlier. He could see that they were on the brink of consciousness. He closed his eyes and faked sleep.


	8. Results

As he sat for their evening tea, his father said nothing. It was an odd occurrence—normally if anything abnormal had happened involving himself his father was on his case. The older man sipped away at his cooling tea as Matthew nibbled on a biscuit. Even Frances was oddly quiet.

“So,” His father began after another few moments, setting his cup down. “I hear you were off spoiling the guards today,” He commented then took a bite of his scone. 

“Oh, yes! I got fed up with my studies so I decided that I would have Sarah help me do up some treats for them. I could only assume that it was a great success,” He said with a smile. 

“Yes.. such a success that four of our guards fell asleep while on duty. Very odd that the only guards close to the cells woke up from being passed out on the floor,” Matthew met Arthur's eyes for a moment before looking down. 

“Yes, I...I cannot explain how that happened..even myself ended up asleep...” He trailed off and took a sip of tea. Arthur narrowed his eyes.

“If I find out that this was some deplorable sly attempt to go and see that...criminal—,”

“No! Of course it wasn't! Do you think I would want to go though that again?” He asked. At this, Frances looks between the two of them.

“What do you mean by that?” He asks, although his gaze is fixed on Arthur.

“Umm, It's nothing...” Matthew responds are a minute. 

“L'Angleterre,” The look Frances gives Arthur is rather intense. “What does our son mean?”

“As he stated, nothing,” Came Arthur's snarky reply. “Now if you'll leave me be, I am going to finish my tea!” Frances opened his mouth to reply but Matthew shook his head and downed the last of his tea.

“May I be excused Father?” He asked. 

“Yes, get out of my sight,” Arthur waved him away with a wave of his hand. Matthew quickly set his cup and saucer down before leaving the parlour. He made his way to the kitchen, where he sat down at the island and waited. Ten minutes turned into twenty before Frances slipped into the kitchen. 

“Mon Cheri, I think L'Angleterre is nuts,” He stated as soon as he shut the door.

“Yes, well, I could have told you that,” Frances shrugged.

“So, tell me,” he said, leaning against the counter top. Matthew looked towards the door, uneasy. “Let's go for a walk shall we then?”

~*~*~*~

“So, tell me,” Frances asked again as soon as they left the house to walk the grounds. “Both things,”

“As in, what did Father do or about Ivan?” Frances grinned at the last part. 

“Good before bad I suppose,”

“Well, they kind of tie in together but... When we were visiting Sadiq, I...Well I ran away. Father told you that they pushed back the Russians, yes?” Frances nodded. “Well, basicly once Sadiq returned, a few days later, I chartered a boat and went to Eupatoria, and found Ivan and...Well, then Father caught me in.. in Ivan's bed. Not that I was in bed with him, he slept on the floor, but still. Father thought—he thought that I had sex with him and he...he said something cruel things, hit me some, but nothing I didn't expect. And of course Father didn't check on us personally the entire voyage home, so the soldiers didn't watch what I was doing, giving most of my meagre rations to Ivan. When he arrived in England, I was held in my rooms, and well, that was that,” Frances looked him over worried. 

“No damages though?” Matthew nodded. 

“It was mostly bruising,” he explained. “It's gone now, but...” He trailed off.

“And of Ivan?” Frances asked after a moment. “Did you really drug the guards?” Matthew shot him a pointed look. 

“I did,” He muttered. “I don't know if Father was just testing me or what but, I did. He must have been. He..I told Father that even if my wedding to Sadiq was still on I would not marry him. I told him I would only marry Ivan and he...Well he blew up,” Frances let out a startled laugh. 

“Well I would think so. When have you ever been so bold?” He asked as they paused to admire some flowers. “One would think you are taking a page from your Brother's book,” Matthew let out a laugh of amusement. 

“Out of Alfred's book? I doubt it. I was only being honest. And I will continue to be as such. Ivan told me he would take me home with him, and I will hold him to that,”

“So very bold of you,” Frances said again. 

“Yes, well...Father...Father told me he intents on hanging him but I...” Frances sighed.

“I will talk to Arthur about it Mon Cheri, I'm sure that I can get him to change is mind. After all, Ivan is a valuable enemy to have within our grasp,” Matthew opened his mouth, but Frances continued. “No matter how you look at it Mattheau, Ivan is our enemy. This is something you cannot deny. We are fighting against the Russians. But, if you can give your little lover a reason to give some omission, I'm sure Arthur will see his usefulness and keep him alive,” Matthew threw up his hands.

“And just how am I going to do that? Father will not let me near the man, and the only time I've had to sneak down there I spent cleaning him up! I want this war to be over so that Father will release him! It's my fault he is even down there now!” Tears of frustration clung to his lashes and he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Mattheau, I'm sure we can figure something out between the two of us. After all we did him out the first time, did we not?” Matthew looked over at him and nodded after a moment. “We did. Your Father is stubborn, but he will bend with the correct persuasion. Give me some time and I'm sure we can find some sort of solution,”

“I hope so Papa, I hope so. Ivan was so thin when I seen him. And I know it would be worse had I not given him most of my food on the journey back,” Frances shook his head. 

“Not to worry. Given enough time, I'm sure I can make L'Angleterre putty in my hands,”

~*~*~*~

“L'Angleterre, my love, what on gods green earth are you doing?” Frances asked his sometimes husband. 

“What the bloody hell does it look like I'm doing? I'm knitting,” Frances snorted as he sat down beside the Brit. “What are you doing? Get away from me,” Frances took the knitting needles away from Arthur and set them down on the side table. Arthur glared at him. “I will ask again. What are you doing?”

“I was wishing to spend some time with you Arthur, is that a crime?” He asked, eyes watching the other man.

“It should be,” came a dark, muttered reply. Frances leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, before moving down his neck. Arthur pushed him away, cheeks pinking. Frances leaned back in close to him. “Stop that,”

“L'Angleterre,” he murmured softly, fingers gripping softly at Arthur's chin as he turned the mans head towards him. He leaned forward to connect their lips in a soft kiss. “I've missed you,” Heat rose to Arthur's cheeks, reddening them. He placed his hands on Frances chest in an attempt to push him away.

“Seriously, back off,” he growled.

“Oh, Arthur,” He placed his hands on either side of the mans neck and used his thumbs to tilt his chin upwards. “You would not leave me, would you?” he asked softly before pressing another soft kiss to Arthur's lips. 

“N-no...” he said slowly after a moment. “Frances, you cannot keep doing this—Whatever it is you are trying to be sneaky about just ask,” He tried to push Frances away once again.

“Now, really! Why must you always think I'm up to something because I want to kiss you?” Arthur nodded. 

“Of course I do, why else would you do it?” Frances jerked back. 

“Because I love you,” He answered, sounding almost offended. “Listen L'Angleterre, I do not want to fight with you. I only wish to spend the evening with you. Something I have not been able to do for some time. Is that so wrong? To want to spend some quiet time with you?” Frances turned his face away from Arthur and dropped his hands away. They sat in quiet for a while.

“I'm sorry, I just...well, you know how I am...” Arthur apologized. Frances laughed softly. “Hey now!” Frances laughed a bit more.

“Oh yes, I know how you are, ma douce. May I kiss you again?” Arthur pouted for a moment but gave a short nod. Frances lips twitched up into a sly grin. He pressed the pad of his thumb to Arthur's chin, pressing down slightly. Arthur let his lips part and Frances finished leaning in and kissed him softly, before slowing applying more pressure as he pressed Arthur into the plush cushions of the couch. They pulled apart after a few moments, feeling breathless.

“Frances...”

“Hmm?”

“You have yet to tell me what it is you are after,” He stated as he looked up at the taller man, eyes half closed. “Is it about, him, isn't it?” Arthur asked as Francis leaned down to kiss him again. He paused about an inch from Arthur's lips.

“Yes,” He told him, before licking at his lips until they parted, allowing him access inside. Arthur's breath hitched softly and he moaned softly into the kiss. “As much as you disagree, if we were not at war, the General would have been a perfect suitor for Mattheau,” 

“Perhaps. But we are at war and he is a prisoner,”

“Aye, that may be so, but if you were to allow Matthew to care for him once more we could possibly end this silly war and save the lives of our fellow countrymen,” Arthur shook his head as he pushed Francis off him.

“No, no. Sadiq was a perfect suitor and Matthew has ruined in last chance,”

“Non. You are wrong at that. I'm sure if you promise him to the General in exchange for information we can—,” 

“I will do no such thing!” Arthur shouted as he pushed himself out of the chair. “He is my son and he will—,”

“But L'Angleterre, he is my son too. Do you not wish to see him happy? Do you wish for him to pull away from you like Alfred did?” He asked. He reached over and tugged Arthur's hand, drawing him close as he used his other hand to tilt his chin up. “Just...give it some thought?” Arthur nodded against his fingers and Francis leaned down once more to place a chaste kiss upon his lips once more. “Thank you,” But Arthur only frowned in response, shaking his head.

~*~*~*~

“Mon Cher, good news!” Francis grinned wide as he entered into his youngest sons room. Matthew looked up from where he sat at his desk. “I have spoken with your father and he has permitted you to go back to what you had been doing before,” Matthew tilted his head in confusion.

“What do you mean Papa?” He asked.

“Arthur has changed his mind and is going to allow you to visit your beloved Ivan again,” Matthew's face lit up as he gasped. He pushed himself to his feet and scurried over to his father, wrapping his arms around the older man.

“Really Papa?!” He asked. “And I won't get in trouble?” His entire face lit up with his smile, his eyes sparkling. He quickly embraced him. “Oh thank you so much Papa!” 

“It was nothing,” Francis murmured softly as he held the petite blonde in his arms. “Why don't we go to the kitchen and cook up something up for your General? I'm sure he would like it. And then afterwards I will have the guards bring him up so he can bathe,” 

“Oh Papa, you have no idea what this means to me,” He told Francis as the pulled away from each other. Matthew quickly put away his text books and followed his father as they headed towards the kitchen.

~*~*~*~

They had decided on something simple yet filling to bring to Ivan. Hearty foods—meat, cheese, bread. A pitcher of wine he knew Ivan liked. He nearly tripped and split everything over the floor in his haste to get down to the cellar. Francis walked with him as they made their way, nodding to the guards who said nothing as they walked by. The further they walked down the corridor the quieter it became. At the end, John and George were leaning against the frame of the door they were supposed to be guarding. George had his eyes closed and his head tilted back as the pair talked together in a low tone. Francis cleared his throat as they approached and both guards stood at attention. 

“Good afternoon Sires,” They greeted Francis and Matthew. 

“Hello John, George!” Matthew greeted back. “Could you lovely lads open the door for me?” He asked. They looked at each other with a frown on their faces. 

“But your father said—,”

“Not to worry about Arthur. He has given his permission. Open the door for Mattheau, Oui?” Francis stated. John opened the door up enough to allow Matthew to slip inside with the tray before it was shut behind him. “Now come. Mattheau will be fine. Let's do a patrol,”

With the door shutting behind him, Matthew couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. He glanced around the small cell—Ivan was asleep on the so-called bed so he set the tray down on the floor next to the bed. He knelt down on the floor next to Ivan and placed his elbows on the edge of the bed, fingers carding though ash blonde locks softly. Ivan woke at the touch, body jerking against the chains as his fingers curled around Matthew's wrist tightly. The blonde let out a whimper in pain but said nothing. When the larger man opened his eyes they locked on with Matthew's and he dropped the hold he had on Matthew's wrist. 

“Matvey, you come see again,” Matthew smiled at his broken English. 

“Yes, I've come to see you again. With permission this time. Are you hungry? I've brought you something to eat,” Ivan stomach growled at the thought of food.

“Da. Hungry, very,” Matthew lifted the tray of food and sat it on the edge of the bed while Ivan sat up. Ivan quickly dove into the food and groaned at the taste. “Food they give prisoner's, tasteless. So good Matvey,” The food didn't last long and after the tray was emptied Matthew moved it back to the floor before handing Ivan the carafe of wine. The dark red of the wine dripped down the corners of Ivan's mouth as he guzzled the drink back, dripping down his chin to his shirt. After a moment he set the wine container on the bed. Matthew leaned up and wiped away the excess wine from Ivan's chin with his sleeve. Ivan caught his wrist one more and tugged, pulling him off his knees and onto the stone slab that made up his so called bed. “Come. Lay,” Matthew moved the carafe to the floor before laying on the cold bed, Ivan's chest pressed to his back. Matthew shivered and Ivan pulled him closer, flush against his chest.

“Ivan..I really..this isn't very appropriate. If Papa came in...I don't want you to get punished,”

“Da...” He trailed off as he allowed Matthew to sit back up for a moment before he stood. 

“Please be good,” Matthew begged softly, leaning back towards Ivan to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. “I don't want anything more to happen to you,”

“Matvey. Your father, he vants things. Things I cannot tell. Things to hurt my countrymen. Bring down my country,” He explained in a saddened tone. 

“Please Ivan. I don't want him to kill you. I could not bare it,” Ivan took Matthew's hands in his own for a moment before bringing one to his lips and brushing a kiss to the back of his hand. 

“Trust me Matvey. Your father vill punish anyways. Whether told vhat he vants or not. Vill endure it. For you, vant to come back for you little Princess,” He murmured softly. Colour rose to Matthew's cheeks.

“I'm not a princess,” He said with a frown which caused Ivan to chuckle and lean in as he raised a hand to rest at the nape of Matthew's neck. 

“To others, perhaps not. But you're my little princess,” He murmured quietly before pressing their lips together in a gentle kiss. He pressed his hand down with a firm pressure causing Matthew to step closer and lean into the kiss; his mouth opening slightly to allow Ivan to stroke their tongues together. Matthew jerked away when he heard the scrap of the hinges and the door opening wide. Francis had a wide grin on his face as he clicked his tongue at them.

“What did I tell you before? I cannot leave you alone for five seconds without supervision,” He eldest blonde chuckled softly. He shut the door behind him as he entered the cell, walking over to Matthew before patting his locks. “Braginski,”

“Bonnefoy,” 

“I trust you to behave yourself around my son,” 

“Oh course. Vhy vould I hurt Matvey?” He asked. “I'm sure you know vhat I plan to do,”

“Yes. Mattheau has mentioned it to me. However in order for you to wed him you cannot be in here, now can you? I've spoken with Arthur. He does not intend on letting you wed. Even if you make it though this war,”

“Not caring what the pig thinks,” Ivan spat out. Francis shrugged.

“Come Mattheau, it is time to leave,” Matthew looked from Francis to Ivan.

“Umm..okay Papa,” He took a step away from Francis as the older man turned to leave. Ivan grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer. “Good night Ivan,” He murmured softly. Ivan placed a hand at the nape of his neck and pulled him down for a chaste kiss—knowing that Francis had turned back towards them at this point.

“Good night Matvey,” His hot breath washed over Matthew's face as he drew back. Matthew shivered as Ivan's hand dropped away, brushing over his collars as it fell. Matthew picked up the discarded tray from the floor before he scurried out of the cell and after his father.


	9. Run Ragged

The war, Francis predicted, would be over by winters end. Arthur was inclined to agree with his prediction as his parliament was not going to keep supporting the war without results. Without Ivan to lean to help lead the front line troops of the Russian army it did not seem like anyone was quiet as well off to command as he had been and with the exception of a few battles—namely when Rossiya, led by one Captain Viktor Poplonsky defended Russian dockyards at Sveaborg outside Helsinki where they suffered a huge loss to the Russians—but then there were plenty of times were they forced the Reds into giving up their hold and retreating.

Arthur rubbed at his temples as he glared down at Francis across the room. His head pounded. 

“I cannot take much more of this war,” He growled out softly causing Francis to smile over at him. “Or you. What are you still doing here?” He asked. Francis only shrugged and set down the book he was reading.

“I am here to watch over my son. Have you had any correspondence from Sadiq?” He asked. Arthur nodded.

“Yes, a month or so back. Never showed it to Matthew though. He did surprisingly express an interest in Matthew still. As long as he was still a virgin. I wrote back stating that he of course was. I know I was less then kind to him in the past but I do trust that he would not lie on a matter such as this. Not to me. Not when it is such an important matter,”

“I would think the same. Not with how he acts. I have spoken with the Red in your basement as well who insists to me that he will be marrying Matthew. He gives me no reason to believe that he has done anything less then innocent with Matthew. Aside from kissing of course. And before you even say anything I've seen Sadiq do the same thing with Matthew so there is no difference there,” Arthur's mouth opened for a moment before he shut it. “Why are you so against that fact that Matthew wishes to marry the Red? Other than the fact of his nationality?” Arthur gave him a pointed glare.

“Beyond the nationality, he is a brutal man. You've heard the stories. Plus he's natural born killer on the field. Why would I want to send him into the arms of a maniac?” Francis stayed quiet. “Besides. We want to marry him off to a prince. Not some army man,”

“Do they not remind you of us?” Francis asked quietly. “We married. I seem to recall some stories about you that were not so pleasant. Of your plundering and of the sea battles. Off for months at a time while I stayed home with the boys,”

“Those were different times,” Arthur growled. “And you are just the same as you were then. Nothing but a womanizer,”

“Yes. Yes that may be true but I was never unfaithful to you. As much as you fail to believe me on the matter. And while that may have been the reasoning for our.. split as it were, I don't think it was the entire cause. But back to the point I was trying to make. Remember when we first met? Before we were formally introduced? You were so cute, such a mop of hair on your head. So wild and free. I thought...” He trailed off as he shook his head before looking over at Arthur. Francis couldn't remember a time when he had ever been so open with Arthur. Not in a long time anyways. “I thought, who is this boy? This cute little boy with the wide green eyes that didn't seem to have a care in the world? Someday he would be a great power and I would have the pleasure of knowing such a great person. But I never dreamt that we would ever get as close as we did. I know I am careless with my affection Arthur. But you must know that I've loved you since that very first day we met in that grassy field,” Arthur remained quiet and Francis noted that he still hadn't made his point. “What I am saying is that although you may not see it does not mean it is not there Arthur. Perhaps you don't know how your youngest son is feeling. Have you ever truly been in love with someone so much that you would do anything for them? Everything that has happened since Ivan came to this country—his escape. Matthew fleeing. How sickly he became. That is all because Matthew would do anything at this point to help his Red soldier,”

“Matthew is the one that let him escape?” Arthur asked after a moment. Francis shrugged.

“After I gave him your keys,”

“You what?!”

“I'm surprised. Honestly Arthur. Matthew had no way to get into your rooms. Who else would have had a chance to get in there but me?” He asked. Arthur waved him off as he let out a hot burst of air.

“Nothing you have said changes my feelings on the matter Francis,” He responded after a few minutes of silence. Francis let out an aggravated sigh.

“I don't know why I bothered,” Francis said as he stood up. “Obviously nothing touches your heart you cold hearted bastard,” He muttered as he left the parlour. Arthur fell back against the plush backing of the chair he was sitting on and rubbed at his temples again; trying to process the information that Francis had provided him.

Did the Frenchman honestly think that Arthur had not loved him at all? He did understand the concept of 'love at first sight' but it had never happened to him. He had gradually fallen for the sweet talking Frenchie. Even now he still had feelings for him even though he'd never admit it. He worried at his lip. He was not cold hearted. How could Francis say that after all these years? He tilted his head upwards, blinking rapidly at the burning behind his eyes. He closed his eyes and swallowed thickly, letting out a choked noise as he pushed himself to his feet. He wiped at his eyes as he walked over to the door. He paused, his hand on the door knob before opening it and exiting the parlour. He quickly made his way up to his personal rooms. It was just his luck that he ran into Matthew on the stairs. They both paused to look at each other momentarily. 

“Father, are you...are you alright?” Matthew asked softly.

“Fine,” Arthur grunted out before continuing up the stairs. He was annoyed when he heard Matthew following behind him. 

“Father...what's wrong? I have not seen you cry since Alfred left,” Arthur's head whipped around to glare at Matthew. “I'm..I'm sorry, I didn't...I mean..” he trailed off. 

“No, no I'm...I'm not sure Matthew,” He said after a minute. “Are you busy?” Matthew shook his head.

“I was going to take Ivan his lunch but if you want to talk, he will understand,” Arthur nodded. 

“Come then,” He motioned for Matthew to follow him to his rooms. He called to one of the maids to bring tea and biscuits before having Matthew sit in one of the chairs he had in his sitting room. The pair sat in silence until after the maid returned with the tea. 

“So what is going on Father? I have not seen you so upset in quiet some time,” Matthew asked. Arthur remained quiet for another few minutes.

“Your father called me cold hearted bastard and said that nothing touches my heart. He...” Arthur trailed off, unsure if he should be talking to his youngest about these things. Matthew leaned over and touched his hand before smiling a reassuring smile. “He told me, or rather he reminded me of when we first met. Before we had..gotten together I suppose you could call it. Sprouting things about love at first sight and that I should know how you...feel. But I don't. Your father...well you know how he is. He believes in all that nonsense. Not me. It took awhile for me to even trust him, let alone fall in love with him,” Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose willing himself not to let the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes fall. “Honestly! He makes it seem like I never loved him at all! I know my parents arranged our marriage for political reasons but after being friends for so long and then being pushed into something like that I couldn't help but feel as I did, but that doesn't mean I didn't love him. I may not hhave expressed it very often if at all but...How..why would he say that!?” He pressed his thumb and index finger against his closed eyelids as tears seeped down his cheeks.

“Father...I don't think Papa meant it like that...regardless of how you act outwardly, he knows you love him. Even now. I just think that...he was referring to not being able to relate your own relationship to mine. I really think you should be talking to him about this. But...perhaps...perhaps you should just tell him once in a while eh? You may not be 'together' but I know Papa still loves you and all he wants is for you two to rekindle what you once had. You've been so withdrawn since Alfred left. It's almost the same as when Papa left, only Alfred's not around for you to dote on,” Matthew picked up his tea cup and took a sip before cradling the warm cup in his palms. 

“Yes, I suppose,” Arthur breathed out taking a deep breath to calm himself. “Perhaps...perhaps you should go back to France with him when he leaves this time. He would certainly be a better father than I have been,”

“I'm not going to leave you here by yourself,” Matthew declared in a soft tone. “I know I haven’t been the best son, but I still love you and until you've seen me wed I will remain here,” Arthur nodded with a bob of his head. “I am sorry about what happened with Sadiq. I think if I had not met Ivan, we could have been good for each other. He is a very sweet man,” 

“Yes, well...” He trailed off. “He is still very interested in you as long as you have in fact remained untouched,” Matthew felt his cheeks pink. “Which I'm sure you are and I reassured him as such. If you had actually did anything with that brute of a man while you were with him it would have been obvious to spot,” Matthew cheeks darkened more.

“Father can we not talk about that?” He muttered, embarrassed. Arthur ignored his request as he continued.

“I wrote back stating that I wasn't sure what was going to happen at this point and would get back in touch with him...Matthew, I...I cannot allow you to marry that Red. Our family has been in decline for decades. We need you to marry a royal,” Matthew worried at his lip. “I can see if there is a Prince from the east, but Russia's tzars only have daughters to my knowledge. Unless you'd prefer that,”

“No,” Matthew responded as he continued to bit at his bottom lip. “I just wish...Father, I love Ivan. I've never felt this way before. When I see him my heart starts to beat faster and when he has his hands upon me—when he brushes my hair back or kisses my hand or cheek—it just feels like...it's indescribable really. Ivan makes me really happy,” Arthur let out a loud sigh.

“Matthew, I understand that you love him, but this marriage isn't one of love. It's political and I'm sorry for that,” He stated after a few moments of silence had passed. Matthew cast his gaze to his hands which were currently clasped together in his lap. 

“I..I understand,”

“Perhaps if the siruation were different I might have allowed it, but while Braginski is a general he doesn't have any sway in matters. In matters that count. I'm sorry Matthew. I know this is not what you wanted to hear but your engagement to Sadiq still stands,”

“Y-yes Father,”

“It will not be for another year or so, depending in this stupid war. This should give you plenty of time to adjust. I will not be sending word to Safiq until after the war is over so if another suitor comes in the meantime, it will be your choice however as unlikely as that is...not that you are not beautiful enough of course, to have more suitors but most have already been..well, spoken for,”

“I understand,” Matthew looked over at his father with a sad smile. “You should reconcile with Papa,” He told him. “I don't want you to be lonely after I leave,” Arthur snorted. 

“I could perhaps, but then we'd just end up fighting like always,” He chuckled and wiped at his eyes again, clearing them of any lingering tears from his eyes. 

“But isn't that the point of it? I remember when I was younger and Papa was still here, and Al was still here, you would fight and fight but at the end when everything was over...I remember this one fight that you had, you had slapped him so hard. I don't remember what the fight was about but it ended with you slapping him so hard and then the next day everything was back to normal but that next day I remember you looked so happy and I had though, we'll if this is what marriage is—with all its ups and down—if the end result was being as happy as it sometimes made you; it wouldn't be so bad,” Arthur was at a loss for words and they sat there in silence. Matthew finished his now cool tea before putting the cup back on his saucer. “You shouldn't dwell so much on the bad Father,” He said as he stood. He placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder before he turned and left the room, leaving Arthur to think further on their conversation. 

~*~*~*~

Matthew brought Ivan his dinner with little issue. Francis was no were to be found so he made up some sandwiches and tea and brought it to the Russian's cell. He set the tray of food down on the table that now resided next to the door before pulling a key ring out of his pocket and walking over to Ivan who appeared to be sleeping. Like he always did when he came across the Russian sleeping he brushed back ash locks from his eyes as he watched him for a moment. He moved slightly, enough to reach over and manoeuvre Ivan's wrists around from their current position resting against his stomach and place the key into the lock, enjoying the clinking sound as the two strips of iron unclasped. He gently pulled the shackles from Ivan's wrists, setting it down quietly as possible on the floor. He then sat down on the floor beside the 'bed' and leaned against it for a few moments before he reached up and took one of Ivan's now freed hands in his own, carefully running his fingers against the others, over the back of his hand and over his palm. Ivan let out a low groan from the back of his throat as he woke, his hand jerking away from Matthew's as he sat up groggily. 

“Matvey, wrong?” He mumbled. “Vhat's wrong?” 

“Hmm? Oh. Nothing I suppose. I just had a very odd conversation with my father. He... he still has plans for me to marry Sadiq but...I don't really know how to explain it. He was upset at Papa but it was still so odd. He said if another suitor came I could choose to marry them however I don't think that will happen,” Matthew twisted around to look at Ivan. “Why couldn't you be a real prince Ivan?” He asked before turning away. “I'm sorry. Perhaps you should just give up on me. I'm not the right person for you at all it seems,”

“Matvey, you are all I ever want. I vill not give up so easily. You vait until war is over. I come to you and you vill be wife,” Matthew said nothing in reply and allowed Ivan to move off the bed and down to the floor before the blonde let out a squeak of surprise when the older man pulled him into his lap and wrapped his arms around Matthew's midsection. The pair settled in comfortably after Matthew had retrieved the tray of food. Ivan picked away at it while they continued to murmur in quiet tones together until Arthur interrupted them a few hours later when Matthew was half asleep in Ivan's arms, his face pressed against his throat. 

“Matthew,” Arthur stated, watching as the younger blonde slowly came to. “I was wondering where you had gotten to. I thought you were only bringing him down lunch?” He asked. His eyes darted to the shackles sitting on the floor beside him. He shook his head in disbelief. “I should have known better,” 

“Oh, I...Sorry Father. I..” Matthew trailed off. “Ivan would not try to hurt me,” He stated as he moved to rise from the floor. Ivan instantly released his hold and allowed the movement. “Besides if he did I think having the chains on would do more damage,”

“Yes, well that may be but you are already giving him special treatment. He does not need even more. You will ruin my reputation,” Matthew looked down at his feet before bending down to pick up the keys and shackles. He turned back to Ivan who was pushing himself up to set on the edge of the bed. He held his hands out without being prompted and allowed Matthew to lock the heavy iron cuffs around his wrists once more.

“All better?” Arthur nodded and Matthew went to get get the now empty tray from the floor. He stepped closer to Ivan, allowing the Russian to take his hand and kiss the back of it—he didn't want to push his luck with a kiss on the lips with Arthur here—which caused Matthew to giggle and hide his smile behind his hand. “Goodnight Ivan. I will see you tomorrow,” He smiled demurely at him before leaving the cell, trailing after his father. 

“You shouldn't do that,” Arthur muttered when they had reached the hallway. “What is something happened and you were hurt? Remember what he did last time he escaped?”

“I do Father. I'm sorry. If it upsets you I will no longer do it,” Arthur nodded. 

“I would like that,” He answered. Matthew followed him though the hallways and to the sunroom. Arthur motioned for a maid to bring tea as he had earlier in the morning and they sat at around enjoying the sun while it lasted. Anne brought out tea and they sipped away at it. Eventually Francis joined them with fresh tea and scones. 

“Papa these are great!” Matthew told him as he took another bite of the blueberry scone in his hand. “The dusting of sugar on top really gives it that extra little 'umh!' you know?” Francis flashed him a smile and moved slightly closer to Arthur on the bench seat they were sitting on. Arthur picked up his cup a tea and sipped at it. 

“What did you put in this? It tastes odd,” Arthur asked as he took another sip of tea before placing the teacup back on it's saucer that was on the arm of the bench. 

“I irished it up a bit,” Francis admitted, laughing. Arthur turned and punched him in the arm as Matthew decided to taste of the tea.

“Spit that out!” Arthur growled at him but Matthew looked back at him with widened eyes and swallowed. Arthur let out a frustrated noise and shook his head. “Francis, take that from him,” He demanded. Francis shook his head as he started to laugh. 

“It's only about an ounce. No one is getting drunk off it love,” Arthur still glared at him.

“Regardless. You shouldn’t have did it anyways,”

“Did it not improve the taste?”

“No,” Arthur responded pointedly. “It did not at all,” He turned away from Francis, looking out into the bland backdrop of the grounds around the home.

“If it will make you happy I won't drink any more,” Matthew stated as he set the cup down on his saucer. 

“No. I suppose Francis is right,” He said after a terse moment of silence. “I am overreacting,” He admitted. Francis leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Stop that,” he mumbled.

“What has gotten into you L'Angleterre? You are so forgiving this afternoon,” Arthur didn't respond to his comment; choosing to ignore Francis in favour running a hand though his hair. Francis smiled at the action and quickly pressing a hand to the side of his face and leaning in to kiss Arthur who sputter at the action. Matthew giggled at the pair and stood up. “Are you leaving?” Francis asked.

“Oui. I'm going to work on my studies for a while,” He took a few steps forward before leaning down to kiss both his fathers on the cheek. “Send someone to fetch me for supper, da?” Matthew froze half way though pulling away from his father. “Umm yes, please,” He quickly turned and exited the sun room. “Enjoy your afternoon!” He called as he shut the door and wanted upstairs to work on his studies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit more Francis/Arthur than I originally wanted... but meh! I was on a roll


	10. Chapter 10

As fall turned to winter and the falling leaves turned into inches and inches of snow fell outside, Matthew began to become very bored. He had received correspondence from Sadiq—short letters regarding a possible wedding in the summer months—Francis had gone home at this point, relishing in his Paris home were the temperatures outside were warmer than in England. The fires were lit at near constant to keep the large manor warm. He didn't go down to the cells to visit Ivan as much as he should and he felt rather guilty about it but it was just so cold down there. Compared to the main floors anyways. Like every winter he brought down the thicker blankets that they had for any prisoners; not that they typically had many—this year seems to be an harsher than normal though with the war going on—and when he asked them they said it was fine; that there were glad to get any extra blankets to keep warm. Ivan of course said that it was still rather warm as he was used to cold, harsh winters, even worse than what mother nature hailed Britain with. The new year came in with a rather quiet bang.

Matthew let out a long sigh as he looked down at the paper before him. He wanted to respond to Sadiq before he went to bring Ivan his lunch. He had so far only written the normal start to any letter. How are you, I'm doing good, blah blah blah. But honestly, what could he tell this man? He rubbed at his temple again before picking up his pen and dipping the end into an inkwell and started writing without thought. About the weather, the manor, about travelling to visit him in the spring. All rather boring stuff. He thanked him for the lovely bracelet that he had sent him for a new years gift and really it was beautiful. Gold inlaid with small rubies and sapphires. He couldn't help but wear it on his wrist. Ivan didn't like it very much though, although that was more of where it came from than why he was wearing it. Even he had admitted it was very nice. He let out another sigh as he penned his name to the letter and folded it up neatly. He sat back in his chair for a moment before sliding the letter into a plain manilla envelope and writing Sadiq's name on it. After a few more moments he stood up and left his room to go to the kitchen. He quickly made some sandwiches to take down to Ivan.

Matthew shivered as he nudged the door open to basement area where the prisoners were being held. The temperature was about seven or eight degrees (Celsius) lower than the coldest rooms in the manor. He shot smiles to the guards as he passed them. George, like always, opened the door for him to Ivan's cell.

“Thank you George,” He flashed a shy smile at him and walked into the cell, nudging the door closed with his hip. “Good...good evening, Ivan,” He said quietly as he walked over to the man. Ivan glanced up at him, lips tugging into a smirk. 

“Da Matvey, it's about time you come to visit. You have not done so in last days,”

“I..I know. I have been busy. I'm sorry,” He smiled shyly at Ivan and set down the tray by the older mans bed before he knelt down on the floor by his feet. “Forgive me?” Ivan looked down at the small blonde at his feet.

“Hmm, not sure if I should. Matvey forgot me,” Matthew looked up at him from his position with wide blue eyes, teeth digging into his bottom lip. Ivan brought his hand to rest against Matthew's cheek before he pulled it away and hit the plump flesh in a quiet slap. 

“W-what was that for?” Matthew whimpered softly and Ivan did it again before he wrapped his fingers in Matthew's golden locks, tugging him up on his knees while pulling his head back, exposing his neck. “I-Ivan,” Ivan snarled at him in response.

“I vant to see Matvey every day, da?” He leaned in close.

“D-da,” Matthew stuttered out. “I understand,”

“Good!” Ivan grinned and released Matthew's hair. He leaned in and pressed their lips together. Matthew stiffened, but opened his mouth as Ivan probed his tongue between his lips and teeth. Matthew let out a gasp as their tongues met, as the cold metal of the chains around Ivan's wrists pressed against his shirt covered chest. The thin white cotton shirt did nothing to protect him from the biting cold of it. Matthew placed a hand against Ivan's chest and pushed him away.

“E-eat, please,” He murmured softly as he moved to gather the tray of food and brought it over to rest on Ivan's knees.

“Da. I will,” Ivan began to eat quickly; he always ate the food Matthew brought quickly. It was much better than the slop they were given for lunch as prisoners. “You are very good cook, I tell you before da?” Matthew blushed softly. 

“No, but thank you. I learned everything I know from Papa,”

“Francis, da? He is an odd man. I have had dealings with him in the past,” Matthew nodded, feinting understanding. 

“Has it been very cold? I could get you another blanket I think,” Ivan shook his head. 

“Nyet, this is nothing. Much colder in Russia. I am fine,” Matthew smiled at him shyly. 

“Father thinks that the war is almost over. You'll be released soon if that is the case,” Ivan snorted. “What? Am I wrong?” He asked

“Da. Prisoners of war do not get 'released'. They go to trial for their crimes. At least here in England they do,”

“But...”

“No buts. That is how things are Matvey. That's how war is. I kill lots of people. I vill be punished accordingly,” Ivan said coldly. Matthew worried at his lip before wrapping his arms around Ivan's neck. “Matvey?”

“I don't want anything to happen to you,” He muttered into Ivan's shoulder. “I love you,” Ivan circled his arms around Matthew's waist in a tight grip.

“Da Matvey, I know,”

~*~*~*~

November ended with a Victory for the Russians. The Siege of Kars ended great losses for the Ottoman and British Empires and may of their soldiers were captured by the snowy countries soldiers. After such a defeat Sadiq requested to visit and Arthur granted him his request. It surprised Matthew. After the lose of so many troops, Arthur had been in quiet a fowl mood. That was weeks ago at this point; it was only a few days from Christmas and his mood still had not changed. Francis didn't seem to help the matter either, since he had not been part of the battle; did not lose any men to the Russians. Many a late night Matthew could hear his parents arguing back and forth on what to do next. One thing they did agree on was that they could not give up. They had to win this war. 

At dinner that night, Sadiq joined them; he had arrived earlier in the day. Arthur, Francis and the Turk spoke about the war at great arms, much to Matthew's displeasure. After their main course had been taken away and dessert had been laid out nothing seemed to change in the flow of conversation. It was extremely boring. And frankly so was the dessert. Pudding. Francis had not been available so it was left in the hands of the kitchen staff. He watched Sadiq for a few moments before bringing a spoonful of pudding to his mouth. Sadiq caught his gaze and watched as he licked the pudding from his spoon. The Ottoman's eyes narrowed slightly before he looked away and Matthew realized what he was doing. Red blossomed across his cheeks. He set the spoon down on the table and looked at Francis.

“Perhaps we should stop all this depressing talk of war and chat about a lighter subject,” Francis said after minutes. “Poor Mattheau looks bored out of his mind,”

“Papa I'm fine, really. Continue on with that you were talking about. I'm going to retire to the parlour here in a minute,” He said softly. “May I be excused?” 

“Oh course Mon Cheri,”

“Let me join you,” Sadiq asked as he stood up. 

“Of..of course,” Matthew moved fluidly, exiting the dining room and walking into the parlour with Sadiq not too far behind him. Matthew sat down, only to have Sadiq sit down beside him. They sat in an awkward silence. “H-How have you been?” Matthew asked after a few minutes. Sadiq didn't reply, but turned his body slightly, sliding his arm along Matthew's shoulders. He used his fingers to press against Matthew's neck, turning his head so they were looking looking at each other. 

“You have grown more beautiful since the last time I laid eyes on you, Matthew,” Sadiq leaned forward and brushed their lips together in a soft kiss.

“T-thank you,” Matthew blushed. More silence. Matthew sat ridged next to the older man, even as the dark haired man tapped his fingers against Matthew's shoulder.

“I cannot wait to marry you. I regret my reactions when you were in Constantinople. I hit you and said some horrible things. Do you think you will be able to forgive me?” Sadiq asked. Matthew looked down at his hands which were clasped in his lap.

“I.. I don't really need to. I already did that, forgave you. It is me who should ask for forgiveness. I ran away to meet with another man and I...” He trailed off. 

“It is fine. I understand. Love can do strange things to those who feel its power. I know that you... still feel its tug. For that brute of a man,” Matthew began to tremble, unsure of how to respond to Sadiq. “I want you to stay away from him,”

“No,” Matthew didn't hesitate to respond this time. “It's my job to take care of him while he is here and I plan on doing that until he is returned to his home. Please, do not ask me to break my promise,” Sadiq looked at him with narrowed eyes. “I..” Matthew trailed off, unsure of what to say next. He shut his mouth and decided not to say anything. He did not want to start anything so he looked back down at his hands again. After a while, Sadiq shifted against him.

“Soon the spring will be upon us and we will marry and Matthew will be my cute little wife,” Sadiq leaned in and kissed Matthew again.

“Non, non, none of that now,” Sadiq's cheeks pinkened slightly as he pulled away, looking over his shoulder at Francis who had entered the parlour, Arthur not too far behind.

“Yes. None of that,” Arthur agreed blindly with Francis, even though he was not looking at the pair. “I remember what it was like to have a few moments alone with my betrothed, to have a few moments without any watchful eyes,” Francis laughed softly.

“How many times did we sneak off from your parents darling?” Francis asked affectionately. “Too many times to count I'm sure,”

“Yeah, sure Mister grabby hands,” Francis let out another soft laugh. “If I catch you alone without prior notification I will not hesitate to kick you out of my home,”

“Of course. I understand,” Sadiq replied quickly. “I didn't purposely do it. Matthew is just so...” He trailed off.

“Regardless,” Arthur waved him off as he moved around the couch to sit in the arm chair across from them. Matthew sat quiet next to Sadiq as they picked up their conversation from the dining room and began to speak of the war again. Dull, boring. “Matthew, are you alright?”

“Hmm?” Matthew opened his eyes. “Yes, why? Is something wrong Father?” He murmured. 

“You were dozing off. I was just inquiring if you felt okay,”

“Oh. Yes, I'm just fine Father,” Matthew pressed his side against Sadiq further. “Just a little tired is all. You gentlemen talk. I will just rest my eyes. Sadiq is rather comfortable,” The older mans cheeks darkened as Matthew leaned his head against his arm and shut his eyes. 

“If you are sure?” Sadiq asked.

“Y-yeah,” Matthew yawned, covering his mouth with his hand. The three older men said nothing more to Matthew and began conversing among themselves. Matthew found himself dozing off against Sadiq, his eyelids drooping down as his breath evened out.

He only woke when he felt himself being lifted up and he left out a soft groan. “Shh, go back to sleep,” Matthew let out a whine and shifted as he opened his eyes up. Sadiq's face loomed above him. 

“S-Sadiq...”

“Sleep,” Matthew closed his eyes, letting himself drift off in the gentle movement.


	11. Love Notes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for Good_Luck_Charm :D

In march the war ended and peace negotiations began at the Congress of Paris which resulted in the signing of the Treaty of Paris on March thirtieth 1856.

Finally everyone could sit back and relax. As part of the negotiations, much of the land gained by Britain and her allies was mostly given back to the Russians, as crippled as they had become and all prisoners of war were to be released. Francis stayed in Paris, Sadiq went back to Constantinople and Matthew and his Father returned to England.

Arthur had not been completely happy with the outcome but his was his opinion against the others, who outvoted him two to one. Matthew barely was able to see Ivan before the he was removed from the castle. He had grudgingly released Ivan and his fellow countrymen at the docks to the channel and put them all into a small ship and sent them into the North Sea so they could get back to Saint Petersburg.

Matthew had begged his father to allow Ivan to stay. Seen him off at the docks in spite of his father. Shared a fleeting kiss with the man as he started to board.

“ _Matvey, I vill come back. Soon. I have to return home first. But I vill return,”_ He had whispered so softly against the shell of his ear. Matthew remembered the feel of his hot breath against his neck, his lips against his. Matthew let out a loud sigh as he rest his cheek against his knuckles and looked out the window of the parlour, a book reading on his knees.

“What are you sighing about?” Arthur asked as he set down his tea cup. “Is there something wrong?” Matthew looked over at him before shaking his head.

“Nothing is wrong father. I am... I am just thinking of the future I suppose,” He replied softly.

“Not with that Russki I hope,” Arthur said after a moment. “I know your feelings for him Matthew but we need you to marry someone of royalty, of someone with major political sway. An military man does not have much sway, even if they are a general,”

“I know Father. I...I can dream can't I?”

“Yes well, Sadiq is expecting to marry you still Matthew, it is not good to think of other men while you are engaged,” Matthew worried at his lip and returned his gaze back to the window.

“Some...sometimes I just cannot help it Father. I will try and stop. Is Sadiq coming to visit soon?” He watched Arthur shake his head in the reflection of the window. “O-oh...” He trailed off.

“Ah,” Arthur snapped his fingers. “Speaking of which. I received a letter this morning from Prince on the East. Siberia I believe he indicated. He mentioned only that he had heard that a son of mine was looking for a husband. He said he would write to you soon but would like to make his intentions known so he wrote to me first. I. Approved it. He seemed to be honest. Included his royal seal and all that to prove his nobility. Not needed in my opinion. He would bring it with him when he comes to visit,”

“Did he say when he could be visiting Father? Did he include a painting?” Arthur shook his head.

“No, he did not say or include either. He only stated he would be contacting you within a week or two after we received this letter. Regardless. He will visit before long I'm sure and then you will be able to choose between him and Sadiq. Although honestly, Sadiq has great political gains,” Matthew looked towards his father.

“I do not wish to marry for political gain Father. I want to marry for love,”

“This man, I'm not sure if he would have any real pull anyways...” He said with a frown as he thought back. “It looked like the Siberian royal seal but..” He trailed off. “Regardless. I also received a letter from your brother expressing interest as well, did I tell you?” Matthew shook his head with a soft laugh.

“No, why on earth would he send you post about that?” He asked softly.

“Because for some reason he thinks it would be a good idea for you two to marry. I already wrote him back declining his so called gracious offer. I hope you don't mind,” Matthew shook his head.

“I don't mind Father. Thank you for responding on my behalf on both cases,” He smiled softly at Arthur. “I didn't know that Siberia had a royal family actually,” Matthew said, changing the subject off his brother. Arthur shrugged.

“It is small, but they do have one. I have been out of touch with that part of the country since the war really. I had thought to turn them away as well since they are surrounded by those bloody Reds, but I think Francis would murder me,” He chuckled.

“But are they not all—,”

“Not speaking of it,” Arthur cut him off. Matthew waved his hand in front of him.

“Alright,” The pair fell into silence and after a few minutes Matthew picked his book up from his lap and began to read again while Arthur sipped at his cooling tea.

“S-so what else did my Siberian suitor say?” Matthew asked.

“Not too much all in all. Just that he wished to visit you in person in the near future. He said that he had seen pictures and though.. well... perhaps you should just read the letter yourself. It's in my office in the top drawer,”

“Okay. Pardon me then Father,” Matthew set his book down on the chair after he stood and left the parlour to go to his fathers office. He felt guilty even with permission to be in here; it wasn't a place he was normally allowed. He slipped into the room and went over to the oversized desk, switching on the desk lamp so he could see more clearly. He opened the top right hand drawer and saw a stack of open letters addressed to his father, and a few to himself that he had not seen. He pushed back the the chair and put the stack of letters on the desk. “Father...” He muttered as he rubbed at his temple with the pad of his thumb. He picked up the envelope on the top of the pile and pulled the letter out. This letter had been addressed to both of them; it was from Alfred. It was short and to the point, stating simply that he would come over and get Matthew and take him home to America with him since he was the one that loved Matthew the most.  _Doubtful in all cases,_ Matthew thought to himself.  _If he really loved me he wouldn't have started a war with Father and left me here all alone for as many years as it had been._ Matthew shook his head and put the letter back into the envelope. The next letter in the pile was a short letter from Sadiq. A letter of niceties and polite words. Nothing of interest to Matthew so he set it aside as well. The next letter was signed from the Siberian prince  Alexander but it seemed to be more than that to the letter.

_Lord Kirkland,_

_I wish to express an interest in wedding your young son, Matthew. I have heard of his striking beauty from other colleagues and since I am looking for a wife I thought I would write you a letter and hope to be able to meet him in person._

_I am sure if he is as beautiful as I have heard, he most likely has had many proposals and I hope that I will be the right one for your son._

_I know I do not much political sway at this moment, with my brothers issues to the West, but hopefully you will be able to see past that._

_If you require a dowry of any sort, please, let me know what you would be requesting and I will make it happen as so._

_I await your correspondence._

_Prince Alexander._

The letter was signed with a seal. Matthew felt his cheeks flush lightly. The man didn't even know him yet he seemed to speak so endearingly about him. He set the letter aside and can though the remaining ones. Most of the rest were between Sadiq and his father, both prior to the end of the war and after, in regards to the treaty, but not a mention of himself so he left them after skimming over the contents and put them back in the drawer from which they came from. He took the letter from Prince Alexander with him back out to the parlour. Arthur was still sitting in front of the windows with his tea on the side table, freshly renewed it looked like and slowly working his knitting needles together to make what was looking to be a scarf.

“F-Father, may I keep this letter?” Arthur glanced over at him.

“Hm? What letter?”

“The one from Prince Alexander,” Arthur turned away.

“Yes, that's fine,” He replied after a moment. Matthew smiled at him.

“Thank you Father. I think I will go study in my room if that is okay?”

“Yes Matthew. That is fine,” Arthur replied again. Matthew turned and left the parlour and went up to his bedroom. He let his body drop to the bed, the hand holding the letter dangling over the side. He let out a sigh. It had been a few weeks since the war ended, a few weeks since he had last seen Ivan. His heart ached when ever he thought about the Russian man and he longed to see him. He had asked his father if he could travel and go see the world, but he had been refused and he got the inkling that the Brit had known the real reasoning behind his request. He was still waiting on a response from Francis as to whether or not he would be allowed to go to Paris for the summer. Arthur had not liked the idea but it was closer to Constantinople and it meant that Arthur would not have to travel and that was something he did not like to do.

Before long, April showers had brought on the May flowers and warmth returned the the British Isles. Matthew had received a number of parcels from his suitor in Siberia; gifts of silk, of gold and silvers. Matthew could no longer stop the quick rush of pleasure that shot though him every time his father grunted out that he received another letter or parcel.

When Matthew went downstairs for breakfast there was a small box and a letter sitting on the island in the kitchen for him. His father sat at the table sipping on tea with a plate of scones in front of him. Matthew picked up the small package and looked it over. His name was scrawled across the front in cursive but nothing else on it. The letter was the same.

“Father, who are this from?” He asked. Arthur placed his tea cup back onto its saucer.

“That would be from Alexander, again. He sent your things as part of a larger package, that's why the address is not on it,” Matthew nodded in understanding and brought the two items to the table. A maid brought him a steaming cup of tea as soon as he was seated and he added a bit of sugar before taking a sip. “He seems quiet taken with you for someone whom he has not met,”

“Indeed,” Matthew murmured in reply as he began to remove the brown parchment paper from the present before him.

“He wrote that he would be leaving his homeland shortly after he sent these to us. I suspect he shall be arriving in the next few days,” Matthew's smile brightened. “Sadiq is also going to be arriving soon,” Arthur added, which dampened the smile somewhat.

“B-both of them will be here? Wouldn't that case problems?” Arthur shook his head.

“Normally I'd say yes, however I wish to see how the two act while they're both vying for your attention,”

“You mean you want to see if they'll fight,” Arthur shrugged casually.

“I wouldn't say that but it is no good to have a husband that gets angry when someone tries to flirt with you. You are very beautiful Matthew, surely you know this?” Matthew flushed and went back to opening the box in front of him. He pulled the paper off of it and opened up the box to reveal a necklace. A choker to be exact. Matthew carefully set the box back on the table and pushed it towards his father.

“I cannot accept this father. It's too much,”

“ Hmm? What is?” He asked as he set down the paper in his hands. He looked over at the small box. Inside, pinned down was a pearl choker, spaced by vertical rows of diamonds every two pearls. In the centre of it all was  a large sapphire surrounded by two rows of diamonds. “My now, isn't that quiet the gift,” Arthur chuckled. “This bloke really seems to want you to like him Matthew,”

“Father... do I have to accept this?” Matthew asked as he picked up the necklace. “It is rather lovely isn't it?”

“It is your choice to keep it or not, but remember. Returning a gift to a suitor means refusal. Oh, and there is something else he sent too, I've sent it to the dressing room. He requested you wear both the dress and the necklace once he arrives. I told him I could not guarantee it so if you do not wish to.. it is up to you,” Matthew eyed his father as he took a sip of tea.

“What is wrong with you? Are you sick? You are never this generous,” Matthew questioned.

“And it is not every day I have two men fighting for your affection now is it?” Arthur mused. “I suspect after Sadiq sees everything that Alexander has bestrode upon you, he will spoil you with gifts as well so best be prepared,” Matthew groaned and swapped the necklace in his hand out for the letter, opening it.

“I do not wish to be spoiled like this,” Arthur didn't reply and Matthew began to read the letter from Alexander.

_My Dearest Matthew,_ it began.  _As you are reading this letter I will made it half way across Europe. I cannot wait to see you in person and tell you just how beautiful you really are. I am sorry that I have not been able to make it sooner than this but hopefully this small token of my affection that I have enclosed will convey how sorry I am. I cannot wait to see you._

_I understand that you have another suitor as well, and I can only hope that my feelings can reach deeper within your heart than that of the other man who vies for your affection. I have seen a painting of you that was done a few years back before the war when my cousins had been asked by your father and you were just stunning. I can only imagine what you look like now. I'm sure you take after your French side more than your English._

_But alas, I have buzzed your mind too much._

_Sweet dreams, my sweet, sweet dear._

_Alexander._

Matthew worried at his bottom lip for a moment. “May I be excused?” He asked. Arthur waved his hand and Matthew scooped up the box and letter before heading back up to his room. He had no idea who this Alexander was but it was sweet. He had yet to meet the man but he already was beginning to like him more than he like Sadiq. He was excited to meet the man that made his heart skip a beat.

Of course, his words had nothing on Ivan who he still thought about constantly, who he had not heard back from since he left that first week in April. He set the items in his hands down on his night stand and sat down on the edge of his bed before plucking the pearls from their home. He pressed it against his throat before undoing the clasp that was hidden behind the sapphire and slid the pearls around his neck before refastening the clasp. The stone was heavy against the hollow of his throat and moved each time his swallowed a breath. Matthew glanced down and brushed his fingers against the coolness of the stone and let out of soft sigh before he took the choker off and put it back into its box before stowing it in the small drawer, along with the letter in his night stand. Matthew looked towards his desk and got up with a sigh, moving on to the over sized piece of furniture to study.

~*~*~

During dinner with his father a few nights later, there was an unexpected interruption of the doorbell ringing. The maid, Anne, quickly excused herself to see what the racket was. She returned a few minutes later and announced that Sadiq had arrived. Arthur rolled his eyes and snorted.

“Put him in his normal rooms then and tell him to come join us,” Anne nodded before bowing, and leaving the pair in the kitchen. “Well I expected the other fellow to show sooner than Sadiq, but whatever works I suppose,” He said with a sigh. He looked towards Matthew. “Are you worried?” He asked as he seen Matthew's downcast expression. Matthew shook his head.

“No. Not really. I'm sure he will be not too far behind. He did have a longer distance to travel after all,” Arthur shrugged.

“I suppose so. Pity he did not send a painting. It would have been nice to see what the bloke looked like. For all we know he could be hideous,”

“Who is hideous? Not me I hope,” Rumbled a deep voice from behind them. Matthew's cheeks redden slightly as he turned around and seen Sadiq.

“O-of course not,” He stuttered out. Matthew pushed himself out of his chair and over to where Sadiq was leaning against the doorway to the kitchen. Matthew smiled shyly at him. “Y-you are very h-handsome Sadiq,” Sadiq chuckled softly and leaned closer to Matthew as the blonde took another step closer.

“May I?” Sadiq murmured, as he brushed his lips against Matthew's when the younger man was close enough. Arthur pointedly ignored the pair this time and allowed Sadiq to press a soft kiss to Matthew's lips in greeting. Matthew blushed in response and pulled away after a moment.

“W-would you like to have something to eat? I can have Anne make you something if you wish?” He asked softly. Sadiq shook his head.

“No, I am fine. Thank you for the offer. Perhaps once you are finished with your meal you could join me in your parlour and we could converse over some tea?”

“Of course. Father, out you like to join us?” Matthew asked, turning towards the elder blonde man. Arthur shook his head.

“No, I am going to retire. I trust you to keep your hands to yourselves,” He sent a pointed glare at Sadiq, who swallowed and nodded.

“Of course sir,” Arthur made no comment as he got up from the table and and motioned to the maid to clean everything away. “Have a good night,”

“You as well,” Arthur walked by the pair and out of the kitchen, continuing on upstairs to his bedroom. Sadiq turned back to Matthew.

“Shall we?” Matthew nodded, smiling shyly before turning to Anne.

“Anne, could you bring some tea and cake when you are done here?” He asked softly. She nodded and bowed to the pair before going back to her work. Matthew took Sadiq's hand and linked their fingers together before leading him into the front room parlour. The sat down together on one of the couches and chatted quietly until Anne brought in their tea. The conversation paused as the both made tea to their personal preference, Sadiq adding a small amount of creme into his and Matthew adding a little sugar and milk. Matthew turned his body at an angle so that he could face Sadiq but still have easy access to his tea cup on the table.

“So I hear that you have another suitor now?” Sadiq asked. Matthew nodded in agreement. “What is he like?”

“I don't know really. I have yet to meet him. He is on his way to visit as we speak,”

“I overheard your father saying that you have not seen what he looks like yet. Is that right?” Matthew nodded once again.

“Yes. He did not send any paintings of himself so I have no idea. I only have his letters to go by. He seems quiet kind. He sent me a—,”

“That reminds me,” Sadiq interrupted, as he dug into the pocket of his waist-coat –It was odd to see him in such British clothing, but it seemed like he wanted to make a even better impression on Arthur with this visit—“I have something for you,” Matthew shook his head.

“Please, you do not need to bring me things, honestly,” Matthew muttered softly. Out of his pocket Sadiq pulled a small ring box and opened it up for Matthew to see. Inside was a ring of course, a gold ring, with a emerald in the middle, simple; yet elegant. Matthew bit at his lip. “Thank you,” He held out his hand, to which Sadiq quickly took. He slipped the ring out of the case and onto Matthew's right hands ring finger.

“S-Sadiq that is awfully...” He trailed off when he seen Sadiq's face; the happiness in his face, the tiny smile pulling at his lips from seeing the ringer on Matthew's hand.

“I hope that we will soon be changing this ring into a wedding ring,” The Turk murmured softly before leaning in and pressing his lips to Matthew's. Matthew whimpered softly as the older man pressed his tongue against the line of his lips and pressed it against his teeth until he opened his mouth to suck in some air. Sadiq brought his hand up and cupped the back of Matthew's neck, pulling the blonde boy closer to him. Matthew pushed a hand against the brunette's chest and after a few moments he released Matthew from his hold. Matthew turned away from him and reached out for his tea cup with shaking hands; the cup clattered against the saucer as he picked them up and took a sip of tea. “I hope I did not startle you,”

“N-no,” Matthew whispered out as he set his teacup back down on the coffee table before he turned his attention to the darkening night sky though the large windows. “I should retire for the evening,”

“Alright. Goodnight Matthew,”

“Goodnight,” Matthew murmured, as he walked out of the parlour and made his way to his room. He sat down on the edge of his bed, staring down at his hands—or rather, the ring on his finger. He pulled the ringer off and quickly hid it away in his nightstand with his necklace before stripping down and sliding between the sheets and bedding, hunkering down for the night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The choker/Necklace is this one--http://royalexhibitions.files.wordpress.com/2010/05/70012.jpg I tried to find something to fit the time, but IDK; I loved this one.


	12. Chapter 12

“You look well this morning,” Sadiq commented as he walked into the kitchen to get some breakfast. The Turk was sitting at the kitchen table. Matthew said nothing as he poured himself a cup of tea and picked up a scone as he sat down opposite to Sadiq.

“Thank you. You are looking well too,” He looked around. “Have you seen father?” Sadiq shook his head.

“The maid said that he had been called away quiet early,” Matthew didn't reply as he took a bite of scone and watched as Anne entered into the kitchen. When she stood silently by the doorway, Matthew raised a brow.

“Is something wrong?” Matthew asked the girl softly from where he sat. Anne glanced at Sadiq before speaking.

“Y-yes sir. I am to get you dressed this morning,” Matthew shot her a questioning look. “Your father would like you to wear the gown in the dressing room,” The blonde blinked as he stared at the red-headed girl before a look of realization crossed over his features.

“Oh. Okay. Is Alexander arriving today?” Anne nodded and a look of excitement crossed over Matthew's features. He quickly finished his cup of tea and scarfed down the rest of his scone. “Please, excuse me Sadiq,” Sadiq did not look happy at all to see Matthew go and dress for his so called rival but there was nothing he could do as it was an order from Arthur.

Matthew on the other hand, trailed after Anne as she led him to the dressing room on the second floor. He knew he had been sent a gown; his father had told him that much, but he had not bothered to go and look at it. He was sure it would be beautiful so he had to qualms there.

“Anne, I need to retrieve something from my room. Could you wait a moment?”

“Of course Sir,” She paused where there were—just past starting on the third floor—and waited. Matthew ran down the stairs to the second floor and quickly went to his room; to his nightstand and got out the necklace Alexander had sent him. Clutching it tightly in his hands, he went back up stairs and rejoined Anne.

“Please tell me this thing doesn't require a corset,” Matthew moaned softly as they continued to the dressing room.

“I do not believe so,” Anne laughed softly. “This suitor is very considerate,” Matthew made a noise of agreement as Anne opened the door and motioned for Matthew to enter. The dress was hanging up by the changing screen, a pretty blue dress made of silk with a scooped neckline which would show off his necklace quiet nicely. It was covered with cold embroidery in elegant designs. It had around the cuffs and neck line. Matthew took a step closer to it and reached out to brush his fingers against the slightly puffed sleeves. The had strips of gold and blue over the arms and chest, and a band of gold around the waist. Blue silk followed down to about where ones knees would be before gold fleurs and a band of more gold designs. Below the band was a dark brown and gold speckled band, more gold design at the bottom with the section between the bands looks like stars.

“Oh, it's so lovely!” He grinned softly. He sat his necklace on the chair and began to strip out of his of his clothes. “Help me into this,” He asked Anne as he shucked out of his dress shirt and slacks. Anne raised a brow at him standing in the middle of his room in just his underwear, but said nothing as she shoot her head and began to lift the dress off the stand it was on. She unfastened the buttons that ran up the back and carefully handed the dress to Matthew who lowered it enough for him to step in to and pull it up and over his hips, his chest. He slipped his arms into the sleeves and felt just how deep the buttons in the back went down; all the way to the small of his back. Anne moved behind him and began to button him up; her small hands brushing against the bare skin of his back as she did each button. It was a tight fit around his waist, but he suspected that like every other dress he owned, it was made for a woman so he dealt with the uncomfortable feeling and let out a breath.

“You look stunning Master Matthew,” Anne murmured after she finished the last button. She ran her hands down his sides so smooth them out. Heat rose to Matthew's cheeks.

“T-thank you,” He shot her a shy grin and shuffled over to get the box on the chair. He plucked the necklace out of the box and undid the clasps before putting it around his neck and redoing them.

“Oh, sir, those suitors won't be able to keep their hands off you!” Anne teased. Her words caused Matthew to flush again. He ran his hands down over his front, trying to smooth down the silken fabric. He twisted his body slightly to see how long the dress was. It was just the right length in the front but had a small train in the back.

“I feel so elegant,” Matthew said with a small laugh. Anne smiled in response.

“Now we just have to add some colour to your cheeks,”

“Do we have to?” Matthew asked. Anne nodded. The blonde pouted. “Fine I suppose,”

“It's nothing too much, just a bit of colour to bring out your cheeks and your lips,” She turned and went to the vanity, returning a few moments later with a view vials of colour and a small brush. She opened up one of the vials and began to dip the brush into it before she started to brush it against his lips, making them go a slightly darker rose colour. After his lips were coloured, she corked the vial and moved on to the other one and put a little red into his cheeks. “You are already pale enough so we shouldn't have to do anything else,” Anne capped the second vial before returning them to the small chest on the vanity they had been removed from. “Now, if you would remain here, I will see if our guests have arrived yet. Your father did not want you to return down stairs before Prince Alexander arrived. The Prince wanted to see you in your gown first, before anyone else,” Red blotched on Matthew's cheeks.

“O-Okay,” Anne bowed to him before making her exit, leaving Matthew to stand in the middle of the dressing room by himself. After a few minutes he walked over to the vanity and took a seat, smoothing out the dress behind him before doing so. He listened for any sounds that may come up from the open windows. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbow on the arm of the chair before leaning on his knuckles and yawning. Even though he had went to bed rather early the night before he was still tired.

Matthew ended up dozing off and was startled awake when his father came into the room, shutting the door loudly behind him. Matthew snapped awake and pushed himself to his feet.

“Is everything alright Father?” He asked, smoothing out the material at his hips.

“Yes, yes, everything is fine.  _Alexander_ is waiting for you down stairs, but I wanted to see you for myself before he did. I feel sorry for Sadiq. He has a challenge before him,” Matthew blushed.

“ That's not always a bad thing. So he's handsome? Alexander?” Arthur nodded and stepped closer to Matthew, resting his hand against the younger blondes cheek. “F-father?”

“ I know I have not always been...kind to you. But I do hope that one of these gentleman will make you happy,” Matthew blinked back at him, before his face exploded with colour.

“ Father, you h-have nothing to worry about. I understand. You've always had my best interests at heart,” Arthur let out a noise that sounded like a scoff.

“ Yes well...” He trailed off. “Anyways! The Princes is waiting for you,” Matthew looked around.

“ Do I have shoes to wear?” Arthur shook his head.

“ Don’t' worry about it. The last thing they will be looking at is your feet and legs,” Arthur held out his arm and Matthew link their arms together, allowing Arthur to escort him out of the dressing room and down the stairs to the foyer.

Two men were waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. Sadiq of course, and whom he presumed to be Alexander. He locked his gaze with the Siberian prince and he couldn't help the heat that rose to his cheeks, slowly spreading down his neck from the heat of the others gaze. Arthur cleared his throat as Matthew glanced over the paler man of the two. The Prince was older than Matthew, but extremely attractive. He had a handsome face, dark eyes and was well built. He had a simple suit on, slacks, dress shirt and waist coat on. A cravat was tied around his neck and over his arm he held an over coat. He handed the overcoat to one of the servants.

“ May I introduce my son, Matthew,” Alexander stepped forward, bowing but never taking his eyes off Matthew. The younger blonde held out is hand and Alexander took his hand, pressing his lips to the back of his hand.

It is a  _ pleasure _ to finally meet you Matthew,” Alexander murmured quietly as he pulled back but did not release Matthew's hand. “I have thought about this moment since I first heard about you,” He brought Matthew hand to his lips and brushed them against the back of the blondes hand once again before turning his attention to Arthur. “May I have your permission, sire, to take your son on a stroll outside?” He asked politely.

“ He'll need shoes,” He told Alexander. “Perhaps you should change out of that dress,” He said to Matthew.

“ No, please. He looks very beautiful in it. I will carry him around if I have to,” This caused Arthur to laugh.

“ No need for that lad! Matthew, go and put something on your feet,” Matthew nodded and looked away from the two men and moved off to his left. He caught Sadiq's gaze; the man looked to be fuming, but he said nothing, stood silently with his hands behind his back.

Matthew returned a few minutes later with shoes on his feet which were covered by his dress. Alexander smiled softly at him and Matthew smiled back before turning to Sadiq. “Would you like to join us?” He asked. Sadiq shook his head, a sour look crossing his features. “Oh okay,” Alexander offered him his arm and Matthew took it willingly. Alexander turned to Arthur again.

“ We should not be out for too long. Just enough to see the sun set if that would be acceptable,” Arthur nodded.

“ Behave yourselves. If I catch you doing anything unsavoury with my son—,”

“ Not to worry about that sir, I will not dishonour Matthew—or yourself—like that,”

“ Good. I like that,” Alexander gave him a short bow.

“ Please excuse us then,” He murmured before leading Matthew to the large front doors and outside. Matthew felt a bit bad for Sadiq, it seemed tonight he was a third wheel. But at least he hadn't actually taken Matthew up on his offer to join them. He offered to be polite but all Matthew wanted to do was to be alone with the handsome Prince whom arm he was currently hanging off of. They walked around the manor, following the stone path that was laid out. They did not speak for a while, just enjoyed the silence of the grounds and chirp of the birds. Before he had time to realize, they walked into the gardens located behind the house. “Would you like to sit down?” Alexander asked, motioning to the bench that they were walking up on.

“ O-okay...” Matthew responded and they sat down on the bench. Alexander turned and looked at Matthew, a small smile gracing his lips. “W-what is it?”

“ Hmm.. I was just thinking how stunning you look,” He murmured. “Much more so than I had expected. Please. May I kiss you?” He asked in a soft voice. Matthew flushed and worried at his lip for a moment.

“ Y-yes... that would be fine,” Alexander brought his hand up to rest against the back of his neck; pulling him forward slightly as he leaned closer to the blonde and pressed their lips together in a soft, gentle kiss before pulling back. Matthew's tongue snaked out after a moment to lick at his dry lips. He got the overwhelming sense of Deja Vu. Alexander's large hand moved from the base of his neck to his shoulder, before he dragged his fingertips along the blondes clavicle, carefully avoiding the pearls of his necklace. He leaned in further, his mouth neck to Matthew's ear.

“ You are so beautiful,” Alexander breathed into his ear. “You are unlike anyone I have ever met. Please by my Queen,” Matthew exploded with red across his cheeks, running down his neck and he turned his face away.

“ A-Alexander...I..” He stuttered. Alexander pulled back, letting his hand drop from Matthew.

“ I'm sorry. That was extremely forward of me. Forgive me,”

“ There is no need for forgiveness. I am very flattered that you feel that way. But I... I'm not sure what my father has written to you about, but I...”

“ Your father? He mentioned about the Turk but...”

“ I think I could really like you Alexander...so I don't want to be keeping this from you,” Alexander rose a brow.

“ Whatever it is it cannot be that bad can it?” He asked. Matthew worried his lip for a moment.

“ I..I ran away when I was visiting Sadiq and met with another man. During... during the war he had been a prisoner that I looked after and I..I fell in love with him and he... he...” Matthew hiccoughed. “I promised him!” Matthew couldn't stop the gush of emotion that ran though him and tears welled up in his eyes. “I'm sorry...maybe I should have kept this to myself...” He whimpered. Alexander wiped away the tears with the pad of his thumb.

“ Don't cry darling,” Alexander pressed a kiss to Matthew's forehead. “I understand,”

“ You do?” Matthew asked, looking up at him with wide eyes. The corner of Alexander's mouth pulled upwards as he tried not to smirk.

“ Of course. But I do hope that even with that promise that you will seriously consider my proposal,” Matthew nodded.

“ Yes. I..I feel...that there is something between us...I'm sure you can feel it too...” He trailed off. “I feel like we've met before in all honestly but I don't think we have,” Alexander chuckled softly.

“ Perhaps, perhaps not Matvey,” Matthew quickly looked up at Alexander, at his slip.

“ S-sorry?”

“ That is my fault. I have been trying to speak proper English. It is not so easy for me!” He laughed softly.

“ The..the other gentleman that I spoke of.. he was from your part of the world. He was a general in the armies from Russia,”

“ Ah, da, Siberia is in the middle of Russia. We share a common language,” Alexander chuckled softly. “I hope I will not offend you if I speak in my regular voice? It takes much concentration to speak proper English,” Matthew let out a small giggle.

“ It won't bother me at all. I'm used to...I used to hear it quiet often,”

“ Thank goodness. It puts much strain on my throat to talk like that. My English is not so bad, vithout talking like that, da?” A shiver ran though Matthew as the older man spoke; his voice had deepened a few decibels. Alexander cleared his throat. “Are you cold Matvey?” He asked. Matthew shook his head.

“ N-no, I'm fine,” The skies had begun to darken and the stars started to come out. “Beautiful, isn't it?” He asked, face turned towards the skies.

“ Da,” Alexander responded, but his gaze still lingered on Matthew. He brought his hand to Matthew cheek and applied pressure, only enough to get him to look at the older man. “Matvey,” He murmured quietly before pressing their lips together. Matthew moaned softly as Alexander licked at his closed lips and parted them; allowing the others tongue into his mouth. The blonde pulled away after a few moments, panting lightly.

“ I..I need to return to the house,” Matthew told him, standing abruptly and began to walk away. Alexander grabbed for his wrist.

“ Matvey, I'm sorry if I did something wrong—,”

“ I have to go,” Matthew told him and Alexander let his hand drop, watching the blonde, pick up the front of his dress so he could walk quickly back to the house.

“ Ah, shit,”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking something like this--http://www.hermitage.nl/static/media/img/objecten/russische_hof/03.jpg--- for Matthew's dress


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So it turns out that Arthur may not be such a bastard after all.

“The Frog is coming to visit you this week,” Arthur muttered around the rim of his tea cup the next morning. The four of them—Arthur, Matthew, Alexander and Sadiq—sat at the dining room table having a lovely full english breakfast.

“Papa? When did he write? I never got a letter,” Matthew asked, taking a bite of toasted bread with jam. He glanced over to Arthur who's cheeks were slowly turning pink.

“Ah well, it was a letter for me. He didn't include anything to give to you this time,” Matthew pouted. “Don't be doing that now. Be lucky of your current company,” Alexander chuckled and reached out to pat the crown of Matthew's head.

“Not to vorry Matvey, ve'll keep you company vhile the parents play,” Arthur flushed at the implications of his words.

“Come now! I think not, supervision will be needed with you lot now,”

“Father!” Matthew squeaked. Alexander chuckled softly and helped himself to some oatmeal. Arthur shrugged.

“Well then maybe the Red should watch what he says,” Alexander's head snapped towards Arthur.

“Chto?”

“I-I'm sure Father didn't mean anything by it Alexander. Right, Father?”

“Chertovski svin'i, (Fucking pig),” Alexander spat out, voice low. Matthew's eyes widened.

“Don't say things like that Ivan!” He hissed. He instantly covered his mouth, embarrassed. By this time the three older men were staring at him.

“What was that Matthew?” His father asked, brows furrowed. “I thought I told you not to say that name in the walls of this house,”

“I-I...”

“Yes, I do not wish to hear that name either,” Sadiq growled out in a low voice.

“I do not mind!” Alexander said cheerfully. “After all, it is my first name!” He laughed softly, his grin spread over his face. A look of shock took over Matthew's face and he slowly turned towards the man. Arthur sputtered.

“But—you—I! What the hell is going on?!” Arthur yelled, his chair scraping against the floor as it was pushed back when Arthur jumped to his feet. Alexander? Ivan? Laughed softly. Sadiq growled softly and started to rise from his seat as well. Arthur motioned with his hand for the dark haired man to sit. “Get out! How dare you trick me into believing this! That you were a suitor for my son! Get out now!”

“Yes, leave now before you regret it,” Sadiq growled, slamming his hand down on the table. The noise startled Matthew who was still staring at the man beside him.

“I-Ivan?” He said softly after another moment had passed, ignoring the protests from Sadiq and his father. “How...how? You look so different...” He trailed off. Ivan nodded.

“Da, Matvey. My sisters are very good. And for your records Arthur, the title of Prince of Siberia is my birthright,” Arthur gaped at him. “If you do not believe, speak with my father, General Winters,” Arthur said nothing in reply. “See? I told you. I told you that your day of reconsigning vould come,” He giggled.

“Ivan...Ivan!” Matthew's eyes filled with tears as he reached out. His palm connected with Ivan's cheek as hard as he could while sitting. “How could you not tell me!” He shot up from his chair and ran from the room.

“Matvey!” Ivan called as he stood up but Matthew was already gone from the room.

“Looks like someone does not have all the luck eh Red?” Sadiq laughed.

“Zatknis' turka,” (Shut the fuck up Turk,” Ivan growled, turning his attention to the Turkish man.

“Both of you shut the hell up,” Arthur thundered. “Hell in a hand basket! Why did you not just tell us before this instead of leading him though this farce?” He questioned.

“Vell, I knew that you vould not have any of it so I use middle name; it vorked did it not?”

“It doesn't matter that it worked! You've lied and upset him! Just... stay where you are!” Arthur growled out before leaving the dining room to go after Matthew. Once he was gone Sadiq glared at Ivan.

“You are fool. Why would you even expose yourself like that?” He asked. “I could see from the moment I met you that you were hiding something,”

“Da, da,” Ivan brushed him off, standing.

“I do not know what Matthew sees in you,” Sadiq rose as well and took a few steps towards the other man. “I should have killed you when I had the chance. No one to miss a dead soldier,” He reached out and grabbed the collar of Ivan's shirt. Ivan snorted.

“I doubt that it would be very hard to get rid of you either,” Ivan leaned down and murmured into Sadiq ear. “Best watch your back,” Ivan released Sadiq and stepped back, a grin splitting across his face.

~*~*~

Arthur on the other hand, went upstairs to Matthew's room first as he started to look for the boy. He looked into the bathroom, the walk in closet but he was not there and hasn't been there since he went down for breakfast earlier in the morning. He went to the library next and walked among the shelves but seen no hair or hide of Matthew either. Letting out a heavy sigh, Arthur then headed to the gardens. Third time was the charm it seemed as he found the blonde sitting on a bench, simply staring straight ahead at the flowers.

“Matthew,” Arthur said after a minute or two. “Might I join you?” He asked softly. Matthew nodded his his numbly and Arthur sat down beside him. The both sat in silence for a while, listening to the birds chirp.

“Why would he hide this from me?” Matthew hiccoughed. Arthur sighed heavily.

“Matthew, you know why he did it. Obviously he did it for you. He knew I would turn him away if he told me. He is a very crafty man,” He admitted. “And I have to admit, I most likely would have. I was not aware he was a son to General Winters. And now that we are not at war, a union with the them could be...good I suppose,” Matthew looked over at him.

“But he could have told me...” The blonde whimpered softly. Arthur patted his knee.

“True, but as your father has said to me before, if you truly feel something for someone you should be able to overcome anything,” Matthew said nothing as he looked up at his father. “And yes, I am aware of how that sounds coming from me but its the point at hand that I am trying to make. If you feel as connected to him as you seem to be, then this should not make any difference in how you feel about him. When you met him, he was a prisoner. Now he is the Prince that you always wanted to marry,” Matthew blinked up at his father.

“W-what did you do with my father?” Matthew laughed shakily. “Since when do you speak so kindly to me. You did not want me to have anything to with him,”

“Yes, well. You are important to me. I may not always show it, especially since Alfred left and I am sorry for that. Your Papa is a smart man,” He ended softly.

“Father...”

“I just ask that you give both of them a fair chance. Sadiq has very good man Matthew. I'm sure Ivan is as well. Give them both an equal chance,”

“I will Father,”

“Now, why do we not rejoin the boys and finish our breakfast?”

“Okay Father,” Arthur shot him a smile and clapped him on the back.

“That's my boy,”

~*~*~

“I'm sorry for running out like that,” Matthew gave a polite bow to the two older men at the table. “It seems I've over reacted,”

“It is no vorry Matvey. I am sorry that I upset you,” Ivan apologized.

“It is understandable Matthew, you thought this man was someone else. It would shock anyone,” Sadiq told the young blonde, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Regardless, I apologize,” Matthew took his seat beside Ivan once more and picked up the scone that was on his plate. “What is on the menu for today?” He asked after a minute.

“I was thinking that we could go for a walk around the grounds and spend some time alone, together,” Sadiq said in a questioning tone.

“And then I vas thinking I might be able to borrow the kitchen and make you a nice dinner, Matvey. Just the two of us,” Ivan said. Matthew blushed softly.

“I-I would like both of those,” Matthew smiled shyly. “Would you like to go after we finish here Sadiq?” The brunette haired man nodded.

“That would be acceptable,” He muttered against the rim of his glass as he took a drink. Matthew finished his scone and tea quickly.

“Let me go get changed into something for outside and we can go out, okay?” Sadiq nodded. Matthew let out a little giggle and pushed himself out of his chair once more. “Excuse me,” He murmured softly before leaving the others in the kitchen. Once Matthew was gone Arthur turned to the other two men.

“Do not bring my son into some sort of rivalry. And do not say you have not been fighting as I can already tell you have while I was gone. Do not hurt my son,”

“Yes sir,” The two said in unison.

“Jolly good then,” Arthur said before pouring himself another cup of tea.

~*~*~

Matthew clung to Sadiq's arm as they toured around the gardens, saying hello at the guard stations and talking softly. Matthew leaned more about Sadiq, about traditions and his culture, his dreams and aspirations and Matthew responded in kind. It seemed like no time at all had passed before they were coming back to the front of the manor again.

“I've enjoyed our time together Sadiq,” Matthew murmured softly, sliding his hand down from the older mans arm to his hand, entwining their fingers together. “Perhaps...perhaps we could continue our walk? Make another round of the gardens? Perhaps we could take some time to rest on one of the benches,”

“Aye, I think that would be agreeable,” Sadiq replied. “Shall we go back around?” He motioned to the backside of the house again. Matthew nodded. “Perfect,” The Turk led Matthew around the back of the manor and back into the gardens. They took their time and Matthew's hands found their way back to Sadiq's arm from his hands and the older man couldn't help but pause and smile down at him. The blonde looked up and cocked his head.

“What is it?” He asked.

“I was just wondering how you could look so beautiful,” Matthew flushed and sputtered at him causing Sadiq to laugh softly. “But I could not wish you any other way. Here, there is a bench we can rest at just ahead,” Matthew nodded and they continued onward until the came to the bench where they sat down, Matthew pressed to Sadiq's side, their fingers entwined together. They sat on the bench for a bit, not speaking, just enjoying the sounds of the gardens; the birds chirping, bugs buzzing. “May I kiss you?” Sadiq murmured into his ear.

“Will it be like last time?” Matthew asked. Sadiq shook his head.

“I am sorry for last time, my emotions got the better of me. I will be gentle. If you tell me to stop I will,” Matthew tilted his head upward as he closed his eyes. Sadiq leaned down and kissed him softly and after a moment he pulled back. “Thank you,”

“N-no problem,” Matthew stuttered. “I enjoyed spending time with you today,”

“As did I. I suppose now it is time to return you to your father?” Matthew nodded. “I suppose I have been lucky to get you alone all morning,”

“Yes, I suppose,”

~*~*~

Once Sadiq and Matthew returned to the manor, they joined Ivan and Arthur for a light lunch before venturing to the parlour to spend time together. Ivan opted to stay in the kitchen as they things he had decided to make were rather tedious and took a bit of time and preparation.

Matthew listened to his father and Sadiq talk about trades; importing and exporting different goods between their nations while Matthew lounged about on the smaller couch, book in hand. After a while of listening to them drone on and on, he began to doze off before startling himself awake.

“Matthew, perhaps you should go lay down in your bedroom. It seems like your walk has tired you out a bit,” His father suggested. Matthew couldn't stop the yawn that left him.

“Okay Father. Please excuse me,” Matthew rose from his spot and left the room. He paused outside the kitchen and knocked as the door had been shut. After a moment the door opened.

“Oh. Matvey. Can I help you?” Ivan opened the door a bit wider to reveal himself, wearing an apron that was tied tight around his neck and hips. His fingers were stained red and he was covered in flour. Matthew giggled. “Now, now. Do not laugh,” Ivan chided. Matthew broke out into a grin as he continued to laugh softly. Ivan snorted and leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to Matthew lips. The blonde squeaked in surprise.

“W-what was that for?” He asked. Ivan shrugged.

“For nothing. I just vanted to is all. Thank you,”

“Y-you're welcome,” Matthew muttered. “I just wanted to say that I was going up to my room to rest if you need me for anything,” Ivan nodded.

“Thank you nemnogo podsolnechnogo, you are kind to let me know. Now go and rest. I will wait you when I am done,” Ivan smirked as leaned down to steal a kiss from Matthew then turned him towards the stairs. “Get going,” He slapped Matthew's behind lightly. Matthew blushed up to the tips of his ears before he muttered a quick goodbye and ran up the stairs. As soon as he was in his room he shut the door behind him and dove under the blankets to try and still away his frantically beating heart.


	14. Chapter 14

“Matvey, wake up,” A gentle knock came to Matthew bedroom door. The blonde stirred but did not wake. “Matvey, I am going to enter. I do hope you are decent,” Ivan turned the door handle and cracked open the door to Matthew's bedroom, pushing the door open slightly and peeking inside. He saw the blonde curled up in bed. A small smile tugged at his lips and he slipped into the room, the doors latch connecting with a click. He leaned against the door for a minute, simply watching Matthew sleep.

He continued to do so for a few minutes before he moved over to sit on the edge of the bed beside Matthew, pulled the blankets back over the blondes shoulders and continued to watch him sleep. He brushed silky blonde locks away from the younger mans face; brushed the pads of his fingers over a soft cheek. Matthew stirred again in his sleep but did not wake.

“Such a fool,” Ivan murmured softly as he shifted closer, moving his fingers to Matthew jaw, to his lips, before leaning down to capture them in a soft kiss. It only lasted for a second or two before Matthew let out a soft whine and attempted to turn over onto his other side. “Matvey, wake up please,” Ivan asked again. He wound his hand into Matthew's hair and gave a light tug, causing Matthew to groan and move away. “Wake up Matthew,” Matthew groaned again, eyes fluttering behind their lids before he slowly opened them, blinking up at Ivan. “Good evening, nemnogo podsolnechnogo,”

“Good evening Ivan,” Matthew murmured, voice thick from sleep. “Is it time for dinner already?”

“Da,” Ivan murmured. “But I am much rather seeing you here,” His words were mixing up as he leaned over the blonde, trailing his hand down from Matthew's hair to his cheek, to his neck and down along the boys bare clavicle. “You are so pretty Matvey,” He ran his fingers downward; underneath the collar of Matthew's light sleep shirt.

“I-Ivan..” Matthew whimpered softly as the mans other hand slipped beneath the hem of his shirt, tickling Matthew's sides as his fingers crept. “S-stop,” He let out a sharp gasp as Ivan's fingers ghosted over his nipples. “Nnn!”

“Do you really vant me to stop?” Matthew shuddered at his words and actions. Ivan ran the pad of his thumb over the bump on Matthew chest, enjoying the younger man squirm. “I thought not,”

“I-Ivan!” Matthew gasped out. “I-if someone c-catches us—,”

“Alright, alright,” Ivan backed up off Matthew and allowed the blonde to sit up properly. He then reached out and rubbed his thumb along Matthew cheek. “So are cute when you are flustered,” Matthew batted his hands away. “Come. Dinner has been ready for a while now,”

“O-okay. Let me get dressed first,” Ivan nodded.

“Something pretty, please?” Matthew nodded before motioning to his closets.

“You can pick if you want. I do not have many dresses though,” Ivan flashed him a smile and made his way to Matthew's closet. “They are at the back,” He added after a minute of Ivan rummaging through his shirts. The ash-blond man went back further into Matthew's closet to where the boys gowns were. He took the time to pull each one out and look it over, scrutinize each before returning it. He stopped once he came across a green-blue satin dress. The bottom was a forest green while the coat was blue with white, almost in a flower design. It had lace on the ends of the sleeves, down the middle and around the collar. He turned to Matthew.

“Da. This. You vear this,” Matthew gave it a quick glance.

“I cannot wear that Ivan. It won't fit me. It was something from my younger days,”

“Prove it to me Matvey,” Matthew sputtered.

“N-no! I cannot! It is not proper—,” Ivan pouted and the protest died on Matthew's lips. “Give me the dress and get out. I will call you when I am done dressing. But I am not leaving this room with this on,” Ivan broke out in a grin.

“Da! Da! Call to me when you are done,” Ivan quickly left him in the closet by himself and went to sit on the bed. Matthew closed the door and changed as quickly as he could in the closet—there was plenty of room to do so. He fumbled with the buttons, to get the different pieces of the dress opened so he could slide into them. He opened the coat and undershirt before slipping out of his bed clothes. He slipped the undershirt on first, then the crisp white blouse; it was tight on his shoulders and around his chest. If he had been a girl, he would have been bursting out of the shirt. He tugged at the sleeves; the lace was just as itchy as he remembered it to be. But this was what Ivan wanted to see so he would do it for him this once. He picked up the dress itself, and wiggled into it. It was flush to his hips and only fell down to just above his knees. The heat rose to his cheeks. Showing something like this to Ivan was highly inappropriate, and yet, he continued to dress. He pulled the coat over and began to fasten it up, growling softly to himself as the lace that ran down got in the way. “Are you almost ready Matvey?” He heard Ivan call from the room. Matthew ignored him in favour of finishing the buttons on the coat and brushing down his front. It had been so long since he had worn this. He let out the breath he was holding and exited the closet.

“This is very inappropriate I-Ivan,” He muttered as he stood in front of the older man, holding one arm with his hand behind his back. Ivan licked his lips.

“Come closer,” As soon as he was close enough, Ivan's hands grabbed for him, pulling him by his hips, circling his arms around his waist. “Matvey, so beautiful,” He muttered against Matthew stomach. “You look like school girl,” Matthew squeaked as Ivan's hands came around and groped his backside and he tried to pull away.

“I-Ivan!” Matthew snapped, flustered. Ivan chuckled softly and released him.

“You tease me too much Matvey. I am only man after all. How do you expect me to keep myself in check all the time?”

“I'm going to change!” Matthew said, frowning at him. He turned on his heel and moved back to the closet to change. Ivan stood quickly and followed; herding him against the shelves of the closet.

“Matvey,” He growled out softly, wrapping his arms around Matthew's waist. He pressed his face into the junction of Matthew's neck and pressed small, wet kisses there. “I love you Matvey. Please. Marry me,”

“I-Ivan..I...I don't know...I...”

“Please, Matvey... I do not know vhat I vould do vithout you,” He said in a low voice against Matthew ear.

“We will discuss it over dinner, okay?” Matthew sighed softly, placing his hands atop Ivan's. “Let me change into something more suited for dinner,” He turned around in Ivan's arms. “Okay?” Ivan nodded.

“Da. I vill vait,” He released Matthew. “I vill vait outside your door,” And with that he turned and left the room.

Matthew struggled to remove the dress he was in before going back and seeing what else he could wear to dinner. He picked though his outfits, humming and hawing over which one to wear. In the end he chose a black and beige dress. It fit him like a glove, accentuate what small curves his body had. The bodice was black for the most part, with white pearl buttons down the front and a lacy collar. The dress on the other hand was mostly beige with the edges covered in black. In the back there was a dress a rather large flourish of a bow. He made sure everything was perfect before moving to his vanity and running the brush though his locks for a moment. Once he was happy with it he left his room to see Ivan fiddling with his pocket watch.

“Matvey. You look stunning,” He told the blonde as he held out his arm for Matthew to take. Matthew took it gladly and let himself be led downstairs. He looked to his right, up at Ivan, just noticing his change of clothing. He was dressed in a finely tailored black suit; something his father would approve of.

“You look quiet handsome yourself,”

“Would you like to go for a walk around the grounds after dinner?” He asked. Matthew nodded.

“That would be lovely. I—Oh. I best ask Father first,” He ended, muttering the last part. Ivan looked at the base of the stairs to see Arthur standing there, arms crossed over his chest.

“And just where have you been?” He asked in a low voice.

“I-I was sleeping Father,”

“And you?” Arthur nodded towards Ivan.

“I finished dinner so I vent to vake Matvey up,”

“Speak English!”

“I said I went to wake Matthew up after I was finished cooking dinner for him,” Ivan growled out, forcing the proper sounds. “Sorry. It takes much concentration for me to form proper pronunciation,” He added after a moment.

“We it does not take over a half hour to wake someone up!” Matthew flushed, embarrassed.

“Vell...Matvey did not wake right away and needed to dress so I vait for him outside his room. He took a long time to dress,” Arthur sent him a pointed glare. “Sorry,” Ivan muttered. The older blonde turned his attention to his son.

“I trust that nothing happened while you were...dressing,” Matthew quickly shook his head.

 “Nothing of the sort. The only thing I allowed was a brief kiss,” The frown did not leave Arthur's face.

“Fine,”

“Umm, Father. After dinner. Ivan has invited me for a walk of the grounds. Would that be okay?”

“I do not want you out after dark,”

“Do not worry, I will have him back by dusk. Well...Just after dusk. I wish to view the stars with him if that is alright,”

“Not particularly but it would seem Matthew would like to or so it seems,” Matthew let go of Ivan to awkwardly hug his father.

“Thank you Father!” He stepped back and returned to wrap his arms around Ivan's. “If you would excuse us Father,” He gave a slight bow.

“Of course,” Arthur locked eyes with Ivan before the pair passed the older blonde.

“So what have you made for me tonight?” Matthew asked as Ivan held the door open to the dining room. Matthew released his arm again and slipped by him as he entered into the room. “Oh, Ivan. This is so very romantic of you,” The table was set for two; at least at one end—the table was rather large but one end had been set for two, a few candles lit for ambiance. There was a bucket of ice off to the side with a bottle wine chilling in it. The lanterns had not been lit, so the only light in the room was coming from the candles on the table which emitted a soft glow. Ivan led him to the table, pulled out his chair and then after the blonde sat down, pushed his chair closer to the table. “T-thank you,”

“If you would excuse me Matvey, I will be back in a moment,” Matthew nodded and placed his hand in his lap and waited quietly. Ivan left the room quickly, slipping into the kitchen to get his first course. One of the maids (Elizabeth) was standing at the washing basin washing some of the dirty dishes.

“You. Maid. Vhat is your name?” Ivan asked. The girl frowned for a moment before turning to Ivan and plastering on a smile.

“Elizabeth sir,”

“Such a pretty name for a pretty girl,” Elizabeth blushed softly. “Vould you do me a favour? I have some soup to carry out but I do not think I can do it vithout spilling it all over everything. Vould you mind doing it for me?” Elizabeth nodded.

“Of course sir. I can bring everything out if you'd like. It is part of my duties,”

“You vould'nt mind? I do not vish to put any more stress on you...” Elizabeth shook her head.

“It is no worry Sire. You go back with young Matthew,” She smiled sweetly at him. Ivan gave her a bow.

“Thank you,” He murmured before returning back to the dining room. Matthew glanced over at him.

“Your maid. Elizabeth vill be bring things out. I am clumsy,” He chuckled. Elizabeth came out after a few minutes carrying a tray. Carefully, Elizabeth set a steaming bowl of soup in front of Matthew, then Ivan. She then poured both of them a glass of wine before clutching the tray to her chest, bowing, then leaving them alone. Matthew picked up his wine glass “I make this from home. Is Borscht. I hope you like,” Matthew smiled at him shyly and picked up his soup spoon before dipping it into the bowl and tasting the red soup.

“So it is call Borsh?” Matthew asked

“ _Borscht_ ,” Ivan repeated. “It is vegetable soup made with beets. Very popular in homeland,” The both returned to their soup and were silent for a few minutes.

“It's very good,” Matthew said. Ivan looked up from his bowl and beamed at him.

“ Da, da! I am glad. I was not sure. Many western countries do not like it. But I thought, Matvey is cultured so he would like it. Vould you like more wine?” Ivan asked, as he finished his glass. Matthew nodded, sipping his own. Ivan refilled both glasses. “Now, onto next? I made Pelmeni. It is...stuffed pasta. That would be the best way to discribe. Very tasty,” Ivan turned to get up but as he did Elizabeth entered with the next coarse. She placed the shallow bowl of the dumplings in a broth before each of them. “Enjoy Matvey, I hope you like them. It is a little different from what I normally make since I didn't have everything avalible but is good just the same,” Matthew smiled at him and stabbed one of the dumplings before bringing the fork to his mouth and taking a bite.

“Oh god,” Matthew moaned softly.

“Vhat? Vhat is wrong? Is it bad?” Matthew shook his head.

“Ivan, this is terrific! What is in it?” Matthew asked before taking another bite.

“Beef...chicken and some vegetables and spices,”

“Ivan, this is to die for! You'll have to teach me how to make it one of these days!” Ivan smiled and they both returned to their meals. It wasn't long before they were both finished their bowls and Ivan sat back in his chair.

“Matvey, you are so exquisite...so alluring. How can you be so?” He murmured quietly. Heat rose to Matthew's cheeks as he blushed. Ivan reached out and brushed his knuckles against Matthew's cheek breifly before pulling his hand away. Elizabeth came out a few minutes later and cleared their dishes away then returned with a tray of tea and some sort of cake it looked like. “Thank you Elizabeth,” Ivan murmured. The maid smiled softly and bowed before leaving. Matthew reached for the teapot to pour some tea but Ivan batted his hands away and poured the tea himself into both of their teacups. “This is a simple butter cake. I know your Papa is very good with sweets and cakes so it is nothing compaired to his but I hope you like,” Matthew picked up his dessert fork and and cut a peice of the cake before bring it to his mouth.

“I think you are wrong,” Matthew said quietly after he finished another few bites of the cake. “It's nice and has a nice lemon taste. It is very tasty,” A grin spread across Ivan's face.

“Matvey spoils me with his words,” Matthew waved him off before finishing his tea and cake and pushing the dishes away from him. Ivan quickly finished his as well before jumping to his feet. “Vould you like to go for valk now?” He asked. Matthew nodded, taking his hand.

“Of course,”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are the two dresses I am references... I know the descriptions kinda suck. I did'nt really do them justice.   
> http://collections.lacma.org/sites/default/files/remote_images/piction/ma-1617369-WEB.jpg  
> http://oldrags.tumblr.com/post/14226420292/dinner-dress-1884-86-canada-london-on


	15. Chapter 15

“The stars are so lovely tonight don't you think?” Matthew murmured softly as they sat down on the bench in the garden. He ran his hand down the shirt of his dress. He turned his face towards the older man and gave him a shy smile.

“Da Matvey, very lovely,” He twisted his upper body slightly, towards Matthew, bringing his hand up to rest against the others pale cheek. Matthew nuzzled his palm, closing his eyes. “Has Matvey thought about vhat I had asked you earlier?” Matthew opened his eyes, blinked at him for a few moments before shaking his head.

“I cannot just give an answer Ivan. I..There is a procedure...” Ivan frowned at his words. “My Father...” He trailed off. Ivan jerked his hand back and turned his attention to the skies above.

“So many stars out there. Perhaps one day we will be able to travel among them,” Ivan said softly. “Matvey.. Matvey, please marry me. I cannot live vithout you,” He begged. Ivan rose to his feet before sitting at Matthew's; kneeling on the ground. He procured a a ring, simple yet elegant. A red gold band with a beautifully cut diamond in the centre and a little cross-hatch pattern inlaid in the gold. “I do not vant to spend another day apart from you Matvey. I vant to see you in that beautiful wedding gown, I vant to see you fat with child. I vant to see you. All of you. I vant to grow old vith you,” Matthew tilted his head, worrying at his lip as he looked at the man kneeling at his feet. He couldn't stop the bubble of laughter that left his throat.

“You know I cannot bare you a child, yes?” He asked, tears starting to pool at the corners of his eyes.

“Da, da, does not matter. Matvey will be beautiful regardless. I vant to be vith him forever,”

“Ivan, I..”

“Please Matvey. I love you,” Matthew stared at him for a few more moments before nodding once.

“O-okay,”

“Okay? Is.. is that a yes?” Matthew smiled shyly at he held out his hand to Ivan. Ivan beamed up at him as he slid the ring onto Matthew's finger.

“It is very stunning Ivan,” Matthew murmured, admiring the ring now on his finger. Ivan cupped his cheeks in his hands and kissed Matthew softly.

“Thank you Matvey. You have made me the luckiest man in this world,” He pressed his lips to Matthew's once more.

“We should tell Father,”

“We should enjoy the moment,” Ivan responded back. Matthew snorted softly.

“Da,” He teased as Ivan boxed him in more, placing his hands on the bench behind Matthew. The blonde lifted his hand to Ivan face as the older man looked down, brushing his finger down over Ivan's lips. The corner of Ivan's mouth twitched upwards as Matthew closed his eyes and they locked lips again; slow, gentle and unhurried. “But it is past dark,” He said after a moment. And Mister Braginski promised my father to return me before then. You are late. He will think you had your way with me,”

“Vell, future Missus Braginski. As much as I vould have liked to have had my vay with you, I would not dishonour you as such.. Besides. I say to your father, I take him out to see stars vhich implies it vould be dark upon your return,” Ivan explain as he pushed himself to his feet. He held his hand out for Matthew, who took it gratefully. The slowly made their way back inside and much to Matthew's surprise, Arthur was not waiting at the door for them. The removed their shoes and left them at the front door and one of the butlers took their coats.

“Your father will see you in the sitting room young Master,” The butler said to Matthew who nodded in response.

“See?” Matthew exclaimed. “You're in trouble now,” He waggled his finger at Ivan with a grin.

“I'm not—I'm not in trouble,” He sulked. Matthew laughed softly.

“Come,” Matthew commanded, offering his arm to Ivan who took it. The blonde led him into the sitting room where Arthur was, sitting in his armchair, knitting. Sadiq was sitting across from him, a glass dangling from his fingers; filled with an amber liquid.

“You are late,”

“Not really, I said dark. I vanted to show Matvey stars,” Sadiq snorted softly. Ivan turned his gaze towards the brunette, eyes narrowed at each other but they said nothing.

“English man!” Arthur growled softly. “It has been dark for some time now. There is a difference between I have him back by dark and after dark,”

“Well I am sorry for the misunderstanding. I assumed that by stating I wanted to see the stars with Matthew that it would mean that we would be out longer than the sun setting. I can understand your concern however and did not mean to cause an issue,”

“I thought it would be okay to leave you alone. After all I did leave you alone when you were... captured during the war. I just expect you to abide by my rules,”

“Yes, I understand, but... I had to ask Matthew a very important question tonight,” Arthur's turned his head sharply to look at Matthew for a moment who had his hands clasped together in front of him.

“Did you now,” Ivan nodded but did not respond verbally.

“And what was his response?” Sadiq said, finally speaking. He's gaze stayed on Matthew and the blonde man looked down at his clasped hands for a moment before speaking.

“I...I said yes,”

“Kırmızı piç emme Allah lanet horoz!” (God damn cock sucking red bastard!) Sadiq spat out, throwing his glass down as he stood up from. The crystal shattered into pieces on the floor and Matthew instantly stepped forward before crouching down to pick up the pieces. “Matthew, do not—,” He stopped as Matthew yelped softly and brought his hand to his mouth. When he pulled his hand away, his lips were stained slightly with blood. He returned to picking up the shattered glass, putting the larger chunks on the small side table.

“Matvey,” Ivan murmured, stepping closer to the boy and kneeling down beside him. “Matvey, calm yourself,” He brought his fingers around Matthew's wrist and carefully took the large shard of glass out of his hand and put it on the table with the rest of them. He brought Matthew's hand to his lips before pressing small kisses to the wound. “You should be more careful,” He murmured. Matthew bit at his lip.

“I-I'm sorry,” He let his hands drop from Ivan's and stood up and back; away from the glass. “Sadiq. I am sorry. I..I know you are a very honourable man. Noble too. But I cannot marry you. I do not feel for you what I do for Ivan. I am very grateful to have met you and wish you the best in finding someone,”

“Are you going to accept this?!” Sadiq hissed at Arthur. “You have promised—,”

“No. I promised my son if he had a choice between suitors it would be his decision in the end and a decision he has made,” Sadiq grumbled more under his breath in Turkish. “There will be no disputing this Sadiq. I am sorry, but Matthew has chosen and that is all the discussion that will be had,” Sadiq spat out more Turkish as he brushed past Matthew and Ivan and out of the room. Arthur shrugged. “To be expected I suppose. Even after the things that happened in Constantinople, he seems to still adore you Matthew. But I should have known he would be upset when you eventually picked Ivan. I'm sure Francis will be pleased. I am...glad that you have chosen,”

“Father...Thank you. I am so glad that you have acknowledged this. Thank you,” Matthew stepped closer to his father and wrapped his arms around Arthur in a quick, tight hug.

“Off to bed with you now, I need to speak with Ivan,” Arthur told Matthew, clapping the boy on the back.

“Yes Father,” He pulled away from Arthur before turning to Ivan shyly.

“G-goodnight,” Ivan reached out and brought Matthew's hand to his lips.

“Goodnight sweet Princess,” Heat rose to Matthew cheeks and he pulled his hand away before making his way out of the sitting room. After a few minutes Arthur let out a sigh.

“I am glad that you have asked my son to marry you but now I have a pissed off Turk in guest room,” Ivan shrugged.

“Is not my problem. Matvey loves me not him,” Arthur let out an annoyed sigh.

“That is besides the point. I would also like to remind you that you should write Francis a letter. He likes those things,”

“Yes, I will do that then. Thank you for telling me,” Ivan scratched at his neck as the stood there in silence.

“Now either get a drink or go to bed,” He said, waving to the decanter on the side table, next to the mess of glass.

“Nyet..I mean no. I will be going to my rooms. Have a good night, Arthur,”

“Right then. Goodnight,” Ivan turned and exited the room, leaving Arthur to go back to his knitting. Ivan shook his head as he shut the door and made his way upstairs, pausing outside his room before continuing on to Matthew's. He knocked on the door softly and after a moment Matthew opened it, sticking his head out the door.

“I-Ivan. What's wrong?” He asked softly. Ivan glanced both ways before pushing the door open and quickly shutting it as quietly as he could.

“Matvey. I vanted to see you before you go to sleep,” He pressed a hand to the blonde's cheek. “I just cannot get enough of you Matvey. I love you so much,” He murmured as he leaned in and pressed their lips together.

“I-Ivan!” Matthew gasped as he pulled away from the older man. “You can't be in here Ivan, Father will get up set at you!” Ivan snorted.

“Your father is down stairs knitting. I think ve vill be good for a few minutes,” He chuckled before kissing the corner of Matthew's mouth. He took a step back from Matthew and finally looking at his appearance. He had a robe hastily thrown over his body. He looked behind Matthew to see his dress pooled on the floor. His eyes trailed down Matthew's body, taking in the pale column of neck, down to his clavicles. “Matvey...,” He licked his lips. The heat rose to Matthew's cheeks

“I-Ivan...you...you have to go!” He pulled his robe shut, covering his exposed chest.

“But Matvey...Christ... I just vant to take you to bed,” Matthew's face reddened further at his words and he sputtered, embarrassed. “I vant to ravish you,” Ivan stepped forward, but Matthew pressed his hand to Ivan's broad chest.

“N-no Ivan, you cannot. You have to wait,”

“I do not vant to vant. I vant Matvey now!” He growled out.

“I.. I know Ivan,” He murmured, moving his hand from Ivan's chest to his neck for a moment and down to his arms. “I know. But if you really want to marry me and if you really respect me you will honour my wishes and the wishes of my father,” Ivan raised a brow.

“Da Matvey. I vill respect your wishes. I vould not do anything you do not vish of me. If you vant me to leave I vill,”

“I would like you to but only because I do not want you to get in trouble. I can already see you getting into a fight with Sadiq. Now kiss me good night and go on to your own room,” The corner of Ivan's mouth twitched up into a smirk.

“Da. I give you good night kiss. Real one this time,” He stepped forward into Matthew's personal space. He slipped his fingers though Matthew's silky locks. He cupped Matthew's neck as he leaned down at the same time as the he tilted the blonde's head up. Their lips met in a gentle kiss, slowly deepening as their tongues met. Matthew moaned softly, clutching at Ivan's sleeves as the older mans hands wandered—moving from his neck to his back to his rear end. Matthew squealed against the others lips and released his arms before stepping away. Ivan let his hands fall to Matthew's hips, holding him in place. “Thank you Matvey. I vill see you in morning, da?”

“Da Ivan. Goodnight,” Ivan leaned in and stole another kiss before he turned and started out the door.

“Da. Goodnight,”

 


	16. Chapter 16

“Matthieu. Honestly. I should take you back to France. We would have better luck finding you a dress there. Or I could bring you to my seamstress to make you a dress,” Francis chided as the left another shop.

“Papa, I know.. perhaps it would be better. It seems like nothing in London is good enough,” Matthew pouted as they got into the awaiting carriage. “Could you bring her here? I don't want to go all the way France...” Francis shook his head as he bowed his head, entering behind Matthew and taking a seat opposite of him.

“You're are too fussy,” Francis chuckled.

“No, I just want to have the perfect dress. Is that so wrong?”

“Oh course not. I am just trying to make things easier for you,” Matthew tilted his head back again the seat. “You're going to have to pick something out or have something made soon. It is almost Summer. You did say you had wanted a summer wedding, oui?” Matthew looked at his father.

“I had thought about it Papa, but I think I may want a winter wedding. I know it would be cold, but I thought it might be better for us. Ivan talks of his home a lot and... I almost want to go have the wedding in Russia,”

“Your father would have a heart attack. And so would Alfred for that matter. Has Arthur told you he's been writing him?” Matthew leaned forward, shock crossing over his features.

“What?! When did this start?” Matthew asked hurriedly. “God! Is Al coming over to visit soon? What's he been saying?”

“I do not know,. You know how Arthur is. Hides and doesn't open up until he's ready to explode. You would have to ask him yourself,”

“Ugh!” Matthew smacked the heal of his palm against his forehead before leaning back once again in the seat and let his hand drop to his side. “I do miss Al though, it's been a long time since we've spoken. I still can't believe all the crap he put us though. Was... was father happy to be in correspondence with him?” He paused, frowning. “He wouldn't, or rather—didn't respond to any of my letters that I've sent,”

“Matthieu, I already told you that I do not know. Arthur has been tight lipped about everything. I don't think he's told your brother about your engagement. Although I'm sure that's why he picked up his pen. You know how torn up he was when he left,” Francis chuckled softly.

“Torn up? Al? For leaving home and getting his independence? Doubtful,”

“About leaving you. You know how crazy he is about you. He'll be on the next ship across the Atlantic as soon as he hears,”

“Do we even need to tell him?” Matthew let out an exasperated sigh before turning his attention to the window, watching as they pulled up to the house. As the carriage came to a stop, Matthew pulled away from the window he was leaning towards and moved to open the door only to have Francis slap his had away from the handle.

“We have help for that Matthieu. We pay them to open the door for us and carry our bags,” Matthew's head turned to look at him, glaring.

“I don't need help. I can do things on my own,” Francis rolled his eyes and followed Matthew as he got out of the carriage. The younger blonde thanked the driver before turning back to to Francis and the pair went into the house. “But honestly.. I have no idea what I'm going to do. Maybe I should try writing Al again. I bet he's got some fashions that he's created over in America,”

“I would hope not. You know how hideous the clothes he wore before he left,”

“Father!” Matthew turned towards the stairs as he handed the maid, May, his coat. He turned and grinned up at his father as the older man came down the main stairs. “Did you enjoy your morning?” He asked.

“I suspect you two did,” He answered, brushing the question off. “You had a good send off for Sadiq?” He asked.

“I suppose. He didn't want us to send him off, or rather, stay until the ship left port. So we left him at the port. Papa thought it was for the best. Sadiq argued the entire way there and it made me uncomfortable,” Arthur frowned at Matthew's words before rolling his eyes.

“Well then,” He tsked. “I thought he was getting more sullen and resentful. Within his own rights though. He was very upset that you didn't choose him,” Matthew looked down.

“I.. I loved.. love Ivan Father. You knew that,”

“I know that. Francis knew that. Ivan knew that. And that being said, I'm sure as soon as you mentioned anything in reference to him Sadiq must have known as well. Now, will you two join me for tea in the sitting room?” He asked.

“Well I...” Matthew scanned the room, trailing off.

“You won't find him. He left shortly after you two left this morning. Stated that he needed to run some errands and would be back this evening. So it is the three of us for this afternoon. I thought that perhaps we could discuss the wedding,” Francis' lips pulled into a smirk as he moved closer to Arthur and slipped his arm around his back. He motioned to Matthew and he led Arthur to the sitting room. Matthew moved to sit in the arm chair in front of the window while Francis let Arthur to sit on the love seat.

“So, how have you decided the date yet?”

“No, not really. I was originally thinking mid-summer, but I was thinking maybe late fall, or maybe mid to late winter, perhaps go to Russia instead of having it here,” Arthur shrugged, hearing, but not listening to what Matthew had said.

“Yes, well mid-summer sounds decent but the winter sounds very drole--,” He paused for a second before he finally looked over at Matthew, his eyes slowly narrowing. “What did you say?”

“I ummm, I suggested having the wedding in Russia. I thought.. I thought it might please Ivan, getting wed in his home country,”

“You will do no such thing!”

“But.. but father!”

“No, and that is final. There is not going to be any further discussion of this matter Matthew,” Matthew looked towards Francis pleadingly. Francis sent him a wistful look.

“I'd have to agree with Arthur on this one. As much as I would love to see the Russian countryside in the winter, it is not a time to have a wedding. Spring, summer... even fall is a better time,”

“But I really think that a winter wedding would be so much better—I mean..really! Freshly fallen snow, a beautiful white gown, a cute little furry hat, one of those hand warmers I see in all the pictures. You know what I mean Papa?” Francis nodded his head, indicating that he did in fact know what Matthew meant.

“Oh, that would look rather sweet, wouldn't it?” Francis concluded after a few moments of silence. He looked to Arthur, moving his arm so that it was resting behind the shorter blondes back, toying with the short hairs at the base of Arthur's neck. Arthur looked at him out of the corner of his eye, but didn't say anything as he frowned.

“I am not changing my mind on this. If you do not pick a date soon than I will do it for you,” Francis lifted his hand slightly and smacked Arthur in the back of the head. “Hey!” Arthur jolted away from the Frenchman.

“Vell then, do not say that you are going to do something you have no decision in making. The date for the wedding is for Matthieu and Ivan to make. If he wants to go to Russia, who are you to tell him he cannot do this?”

“Papa... it's okay... it was just an idea after all. I had not mentioned it to Ivan so it is okay,” Francis smiled a sad little smile towards Matthew before smacking Arthur again and whistling softly as he looked away innocently. Arthur snorted and flicked his ear with his finger.

“Brat,” He grumbled, annoyed. “And speaking of brats, Alfred was inquiring about you,” Arthur hummed. “I have not sprung the news on him of course, that is for you to tell him because to hell with you if I am breaking can of worms open,” Francis snorted, trying not to laugh. Colour flooded Matthew's cheeks and he let out a squeak.

“Thanks, Father. Is he going to respond to me this time? He never wrote back the last time I wrote to him,” He muttered, more to himself than anyone else. Arthur pushed himself to his feet, nodding.

“One moment,” He articulated, leaving the room. He returned a few minutes later with a envelope held up between his fingers. “He wanted me to give this to you,” He presented the letter out to Matthew who grabbed it from him as he stood up.

“May.. may I be excused please?” He asked, glancing from the letter to Arthur to Francis and back to the letter. Arthur nodded rather quickly, sending Francis a quick glance.

“I suppose so,” Matthew flung his arms around Arthur in a quick hug, blew Francis a kiss and nearly ran out of sitting room—though the hall and upstairs to his bedroom. He closed his bedroom door behind him. He leaned against the door for a moment before flinging himself onto his bed; his body bouncing slightly at the force of his face and he carefully opened the letter and began to read, praying to god that Alfred didn't put anything he shouldn't have put in there—he should know that Arthur would read it before passing it on.

 

_Dearest Brother,_ it began.

_I guess I would start off this letter with an apology since I did not respond back to your previous two letters. I know you must be upset with me because of this and for that I am truly sorry. I did receive both of them though, so this letter I hope to make up for both of them. Living in the former colonies is quiet nice. The people have really taken to the land and everything seems to be going quiet well._

_How is your arrangement with that fowl Turkish man going? Ugh, I just cannot bare the thought of him touching my cute little brother. So I have made the decision that I am going to be coming home to visit for a few months. I have appointed someone to watch over my states while I'm away._

_Mattie, I can not wait to see you. Perhaps I can marry you instead? I doubt Father would allow something like that, but I would ( _ Matthew paused here to giggle as Alfred has underlined the word repeatedly)  _treat you like the little princess you are. God Mattie, I could see you all pretty and dressed up with flowers in your hair and everything. Give it a thought, yeah?_

_Anyways, I bet Arthur is reading this so I better stop that stuff or he'll get upset and probley take it out on you._

_When I come home I'll bring you a few souvenirs back with me too. Maybe even a pretty dress since I know you like to wear them, I wonder what colour you would like the most? Green perhaps, like the grass? Pink like your cheeks when you blush? Or perhaps that purple-blue colour of your eyes? Damn Mattie, I really miss you._ Matthew worried at his lip; pushing back the tears that threatened to fall. It felt so good to hear how Alfred was doing, to read his little sweet nothings. He couldn't help but hear Al's voice in his head as he read. He brought the heel of his hand up to his eyes and wiped away the lingering wetness before continuing to read.

_Like super, ultra, mega miss you Mattie. I might have forgotten that pretty face if we didn't look so much alike. I know that sounds kind of mean now that I've written it out so please don't take it the wrong way, I just mean it has been wayyyy to long since I've seen you and I super miss you little brother. I can't wait to see you. I'm leaving like, tomorrow. Although I'm sure this will reach you way before I get there (damn navy ships, so much faster than the let passenger ships go—honestly, I should just commandeered one, but I digress, I'm sure it wouldn't be worth the trouble and you know that's something when I say it, haha._ There was a break in the writing—Al had drawn a picture of what he could only assume was him as a princess with Al down on one knee, kissing his hand. Matthew sniffled and smiled down at the drawing, a chuckle escaping from his lips. It was kind of cute. He turned the page cover and continued to read.

_But back to the problem at hand—this Turk. I hope if you do marry him that you like him. I mean, I'm pretty angry at the entire thing. Honestly, over here, I am like a king! Why don't I have a chance? I should have just as much of an opportunity to marry you as anyone else, right? Or did someone else come in and scoop you up? Well, not much I can do from here I guess, what can I do after all when I'm across the ocean? Maybe this was a stupid thing that I did by moving away. I guess.. perhaps this is my own fault? If I had stayed with you and Arthur I wouldn't have had to hear all this from him._

_Regardless Mattie, I just want to say I love you so much and I can not wait to see you again. As I mentioned, I'm sure I'll be following this letter, chasing behind it by a few days, a week at the most._

_Forever yours,_

_Alfred F. Jones._

 

Matthew let out a heavy sigh as he folded the letter up and set it on the nightstand before turning to lay on his side, facing the wall. Stupid Alfred and his stupid over sharing and feelings. He wiped at his eyes again, cursing at Alfred softly, even as he closed his eyes and took in a few deep breaths. After a diminutive amount of time, he opened his eyes before closing them again, lids heavy; tired. And he felt tired. A little nap wouldn't hurt anything, anyone. Someone would come and wake up for supper. Ivan, if not Francis. After a few moments, he could feel himself nodding off slowly into sleep.

~*~*~*~

As Matthew began to stir, he quickly became aware of a hand crawling under his skirts, brushing soft strokes up his ankle to his knee and higher. He made a noise, which stuck to his throat as he moved his hand from where it was resting by his head to bat at the hand and his dress. He was roused further from sleep by the chuckle that the action earned; a shiver ran though him and he let his hand drop. His eyed drooped closed one more as the hand returned to his ankle, thumb brushing over the bump of bone and he let out a content sigh and began to drift off again. This wasn't appreciated and Matthew soon found himself being lifted up, moved over and then put back down on the bed. He let out an exasperated noise, clearly annoyed at being jostled around and opened his eyes as a warm body pressed against his side and cracked lips press against his. He got a sight full of ash-blonde hair and violet eyes staring back at him.

“I-Ivan!” Matthew jolted back, his head thunking against the wall behind him. Ivan followed his movement, pressing their lips together one again, hand moving up to rest on his knee again. “Please, move your hand,” He whimpered quietly. Ivan licked his dry lips and brought his hand up higher leaving Matthew let out a squeak. “Down!”

“Da, da,” Ivan murmured in response, chasing after Matthew's lips and pressing them together as he moved his hand in the opposite direction that Matthew had wanted and found his hand full of Matthew's rump. Matthew gasped against his lips, his own parting and Ivan took the chance to deepen the kiss. “You say that but you don't really vant me to stop, do you?” Ivan murmured.

“Nnnn,” Matthew closed his eyes and whined softly as Ivan pulled him towards him, pulling him so that he was flush against his side and his other arm was now under and around Matthew, drawing him in closer once more so that Matthew was more or less laying on his chest, legs tangled together. “We can't stay like this,” Matthew whispered as he moved his lips away from Ivan's before pressing their cheeks together. “Father—,”

“Nyet, is okay,” Ivan breathed into his ear. “Let me touch you more,” He released Matthew's backside from his grip and slowly slid his hand down the blondes leg once more before slowly raising it to Matthew face, the pads of his fingers brushing gingerly against the soft skin. He let his eyes fall half-lidded, and brought his thumb to brush against Matthew's bottom lip, a moment later pressing down. Matthew parted his lips, tongue slipping out and licking his lips, swiping at Ivan's thumb in the process.

“Okay,” Matthew breathed. “Only kisses,”

“Da, da,” He replied quietly. “YA lyublyu tebya tak, tak mnogo,”

“Da, YA tozhe tebya lyublyu, I can't wait to marry you Ivan,” He leaned in and kissed the older man while bring his hand down the side of his neck to his collar and leaving it there. Ivan's lips twitched into a smirk as he cupped Matthew's cheek.

“Your Russian is improving dorogaya. I am glad to hear from you,” He murmured. “I see letter, who vrite to you?” He asked. Matthew didn't respond for a few minutes, enjoying the feel of Ivan's large hand on his neck.

“It's.. it's from my brother in America,”

“Ah,”

“Did you read it?” He asked. After a moment Ivan nodded. “Of course. Don't worry though. He's just overly affectionate. You'll see when he arrives. He's a very sweet boy but...well.. you'll see,” Ivan shrugged and leaned forward again to kiss Matthew once more.

“Geez. I should have known after last time,” Matthew shoved Ivan as soon as he heard the voice from the doorway and wiped at his mouth.

“P-papa! It's not.. it's not what it looks like!” He scrambled to pull his dress down over his knees where Ivan had left it but Francis only chuckled. Ivan pouted at Matthew before gathering himself and sitting up on the edge of the bed, rubbing at his neck.

“Yes. I'm sure it isn't what I think it was. If it wasn't you being kissed senseless then what was it Mon Cher? Was he trying to bring you back to life?” Matthew flushed hotly, sputtering out embarrassed.

“N-non, Papa,” He pouted. “P-please don't tell Father. We..we were just kissing, I swear,” Francis raised a brow and looked pointedly at Ivan.

“Oui, of course. That's why your backside was on display,” Matthew's cheeks darkened and he turned away from Francis but not before smacking Ivan on the arm.

“I told you not to!” Ivan just shrugged.

“I do nothing wrong. I am, how to say... examining goods? Da. That is it. I vant to make sure that I am getting vhat Matvey promised me and it vould seem that I am,” He said smugly.

“Out, out!” Francis growled and Ivan dropped his smug expression.

“Vhat did I do?!” He questioned Francis.

“You know what you did. Now get out. If I catch you alone with my son again before you are wed, I will castrate you,” Francis responded in a low voice, not really caring if Matthew overheard the threat. Luckily for him, Matthew either didn't here him or chose to ignore it. Ivan stood, glaring at him before he slowly made his way to the doorway where he stared Francis down before he exited the room. Francis waited until he was out sight before letting out a heavy sigh.

“Papa?”

“You'd best be more careful Matthieu, your father will not be so forgiving if he catches you,”

“I'm sorry Papa... I.. I will be more careful,”

“Good. Now come and help me with supper,” Matthew nodded and pushed himself out of bed, brushing off his dress before following his father downstairs.

 


End file.
